


It's Black Friday, Friday

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [27]
Category: Glee
Genre: Brothership, Gen, Gen Fic, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Black Friday, Friday. Gotta get deals on Black Friday! Kurt's doing the shopping for every-bod-y.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Finn carries the empty plate into the kitchen, and as luck would have it, his mom is in there, drinking a mug of what smells like apple cider.

“Hey mom,” Finn says, as he rinses off the plate.

“Hey, yourself,” Carole says, then shakes her head a little. “So that’s where the rest of the scones went.”

“Kurt brought ‘em up to share,” Finn answers, grinning a little. “I’d say I feel guilty about eating them all, but, uh, they’re _scones_.”

“I’ll just have to remember to make more,” Carole says with a mock-sigh. “And hide some before I let you two know they’re in the house.”

“We’re growing boys,” Finn protests. “And scones have important...uh, things in them. Things we need. For growing.”

“I’m sure,” Carole says dryly, but she smiles as she does so. “Good rehearsal, honey?”

Finn shrugs. It didn’t go exactly like he’d hoped. “Eh, it was ok. We tried out one of my ideas, but it didn’t work so great. I think everybody had a good time, but having a good time isn’t gonna get us to New York.”

“Hmm. Well, you know what they say about how to get to Carnegie Hall.”

“Uh, what?” Finn makes a confused face.

Carole grins at his look. “Practice, practice, practice.”

Finn stares at his mother blankly for a moment, blinking slowly. “Yeah, we practice a lot. We’ll probably add at least one more a week when we get further into the year.”

“It’s an old joke,” Carole waves her hand dismissively and takes a sip of cider.

“Yeah, I guess it’s too old for me to get it,” Finn answers, the abruptly changes the subject, before he forgets the reason he came down to talk to her to begin with. “Oh, hey, do you think Puck could crash here Thanksgiving night? He’s got to go to work at like _three-thirty_! And did you know, he _walks_ there?”

“He walks to work every morning?” Carole creases her forehead. “Through downtown?”

Finn nods solemnly. “Every day he works. Every single day for a while there. And, I mean, three- _thirty_ , Mom! Though, I think that’s about the time Kurt’s getting up to go shopping, so maybe he could take Puck to work instead of me waking up and doing it.” Finn cocks his head a little, putting on his best thoughtful and lovable Labrador face.

“I don’t see why not,” Carole answers thoughtfully. “I do hate to think about Noah walking around in the middle of the night–and that is definitely the middle of the night!”

“That’s awesome, Mom!” Finn exclaims. “Thanks! I kinda miss having him over here, you know? Hanging out? All those years growing up together and then suddenly he’s banished to the living room and then he never stays over at all.” Finn sighs. “It’s just not cool. He was my friend for, like, way way longer than he’s been Kurt’s boyfriend.”

“I know, sweetie. It’s so nice that the three of you get along so well, though.”

“You think he could maybe not sleep on the couch this time?”

“I’ll talk to Burt,” Carole confirms, “but I can’t make any promises. Not since–well.” She purses her lips and doesn’t look directly at Finn, as if judging how much she can say.

“Since Puck and Kurt are gonna move to New York, and get married, and find somebody to have their babies like the Berrys did, and live happily ever after?” Finn says, scowling. He sound petulant and knows it, but doesn’t really care. This shit pisses him off. “Yeah, that’s definitely a good reason to stick someone on the couch. Criminal stuff right there.”

Carole looks startled for a moment at his litany, then clears her expression before sighing and responding. “That wasn’t precisely what I was referring to, actually, but I understand your point of view.”

“Well, and at least it’s totally fair, right? I mean, it’s not like Burt would be ok with Rachel spending the night over here and staying in Kurt’s room,” Finn snipes. “Oh, _wait_.”

Carole looks troubled, but doesn’t directly answer Finn, pressing her lips together and looking away before turning back to him. “You have your regional quarterfinal next week, the night before Sectionals, right?”

“Yeah,” Finn answers, looking dubiously at his mom over the sudden shift in topic.

“Why don’t all twelve of you sleep over here? It would certainly make more sense for transportation to the school. And I can feed you all a nice big breakfast.”

“Seriously? Everybody?”

“Yes, everybody,” Carole says firmly. “We’ll work out who sleeps in what bedroom later, but it won’t be an issue.”

“That’s really awesome, mom,” Finn says, spontaneously hugging her. “Thanks. And you’ll talk to Burt about where Puck sleeps on Thanksgiving, right? And I can let Puck know he can stay over?”

“Yes, and I will.” Carole smiles. “Just leave it to me, sweetie.”

 

Puck sighs and yawns, glancing at the clock and trying to decide if he should make himself yet another coffee. He really hopes that Black Friday is, well, blacker in the rest of the country than at his Starbucks, or otherwise there’s going to be a whole lot of hoopla on the news about the economy crashing.

He decides that yes, he should make another one for himself, and busies himself with that, at least, when he hears footsteps actually entering the store.

“Morning,” Finn calls. “Though I guess it’s like afternoon for you already.”

“Hey, dude.” Puck looks up. “Yeah, pretty much.” He snorts. “This place is _dead_.”

“I don’t know why they’d have a Starbucks in a _hospital_ open that early, anyway,” Finn says, shaking his head. “Two-fer on x-rays? Ooh, maybe it’s buy one kidney, get one free?”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, and 50% off on all casts. I dunno, I guess ‘cause we’re the only Starbucks in town?” He shrugs and walks over to the brewed coffee. “Venti?”

“Yes!” Finn gasps. “Ugh, I am not looking forward to what Sheets n’ Things is gonna look like when I get in there.”

“Yeah, at least I don’t have to worry about that,” Puck acknowledges, filling the cup and sliding it across the counter.

“Not that much to restock in Starbucks, I guess?”

“Nah. I’ve had busier Mondays, to be honest, and I thought Monday mornings were dead sometimes.” Puck leans against the counter and hands Finn the half and half from the refrigerator so he doesn’t have to walk across the store. “I figure we’ll get a run on travel mugs on the 23rd.”

“People need them to drive places for Christmas?” Finn asks, pouring a liberal helping of half and half into his coffee.

“Last minute gifts,” Puck clarifies. “Or the ‘oh-no-my-boss-bought-me-a-gift-what-do-I-do-now’ gift.”

“Oh, makes sense.” Finn nods. “I’ve done that before. Not the boss thing, but the last minute thing. This year, I’ve already done some shopping and with Kurt helping, it’ll all be done. I just have to find a chance for me and Kurt to go out and get my mom’s gift.”

“Yeah? What’re you looking for?”

“You’re gonna think it’s cheesy.”

“Hey, you didn’t laugh when I told you about that Lush thing, so I promise not to laugh,” Puck offers, smiling slightly.

“You know those necklaces for moms? The ones with the birthstones of their kids?” Finn asks. “You see the commercials all over TV around mother’s day.”

“Yeah, Mom used to have one, before Hannah was born, but she never got a charm or whatever for Hannah. Why?” Puck looks up. “Oh.” He shrugs. “That’s kind of cool. Yeah, maybe a little cheesy, but.”

“It never made any sense to get her one before, you know? Now, though, there’s two stones she can have on there.” Finn grins. “Hey, and maybe some day, she can add yours on there.”

Puck snorts but doesn’t dispute the comment. “Careful, or I’ll make you pay for that cup of coffee, dude.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me!” Finn says, acting shocked, though his smirk sort of takes away from the effect. “We’re practically _family_.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, much to my mom’s apparent chagrin. Did you see her face, dude?”

“She looked uncomfortable. Or confused.”

“Yeah. Well, we had a nice fight while you were in Wisconsin.” Puck shrugs. “Never really talked about it, just ignored it. She’s... unhappy. About me leaving.”

“That sucks, dude,” Finn frowns. “I think my mom’s kind of excited.”

“Yeah, well.” Puck shrugs. “I think we both know my mom’s a little messed up on some things.” He lets the statement hang there, because he knows Finn remembers things in the past without his having to enumerate them.

Finn nods slowly. “Still,” he says, after a moment, “she might get used to it eventually?”

Puck purses his lips. “More like she’ll just have to. Hannah’s all right, though, so.”

“Well, Hannah’s just awesome.”

“She is,” Puck agrees, grinning. “She made me promise to let her come visit in New York the first time I even mentioned it. Can you imagine?”

“You’ll need to get one of those locks they put way up high on the doors,” Finn suggests. “Like, for old people, so they don’t wander off into the snow or the sewers or something.”

“I was actually more worried about Manhattan in this scenario.”

“Uh, dude? Me, too.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, definitely have to get one of those locks, and put a padlock with it.”

“One of those booby trap things with the darts that fly across the room. With sleeping potion.”

“It’ll be like _Home Alone_ except trying to keep her in.”

Finn snorts. “And Manhattan will be all, ‘Aaaaagh’!” he says, putting his hands up to his cheeks. “Only they’ll call the movie ‘Hannah Destroys Manhattan.’”

“Guess I’d better start getting friendly with the beat cops as soon as we get there, so I can bail her out.” Puck shakes his head, smirking. “Yeah, don’t tell anybody, but she’s totally more badass than I am.”

“Younger siblings _rock_ ,” Finn agrees. “I should know, ‘cause of how I am one.”

“Own it, dude.”

“You know it.”

“You realize the joke’s never gonna get old, right?”

Finn nods. “And never will I. Or at least, not until six months after you guys do.”


	2. Mall (a 3x11 bonus fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday shopping and food court gossip with Dave and Casey.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dave mutters, pocketing his change and walking out of fye, bag with two seasons of _NCIS_ swinging in his other hand. He knew Black Friday shopping was a bad idea, but he was bored and now he’s already done with Christmas shopping.

He thinks about going over to GameStop, but before he can make it halfway across the admittedly small mall, he hears someone calling his name. “Daaaavid!”

Dave turns and nearly trips over a baby carriage before he spots the source of the call. “Case!”

“David, hi!” Casey hurries over from in front of the Hallmark. “Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Yeah, I didn’t expect to see myself here either,” Dave chuckles. “But hey, I finished my shopping!” He holds up the single bag.

"I’m here with my mom,” Casey says, gesturing back at a small, dark-haired woman, who stares at Dave’s letterman jacket suspiciously. “She, um, likes the sales.”

“I probably should have skipped ‘em,” Dave says ruefully. “I was just gonna go grab a pretzel or a cheesesteak or something. Your mom might want to shop without you?”

“Sure, I can ask!” Casey rushes over to his mother, and they engage in a brief conversation. Casey’s mom throws Dave a few more uncertain looks before finally shrugging. Casey gives her a quick hug, and she makes an uncomfortable face, as if she were a tube of toothpaste being squeezed too tightly.

Casey practically runs back towards Dave, giant smile on his face. “She said I can!”

“Cool.” Dave turns towards the infinitesimally small food court and slows his stride a little to accommodate Casey’s much shorter legs. “I should’ve known better, but Dad had an important meeting and I didn’t feel like hanging around the house all day today.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Casey says darkly. “Anyway, I don’t mind the crowds too much. It’s interesting, I think. All the people buying all that stuff.”

“I think most of ‘em are crazy,” Dave offers. “Nothing can be that special that it’s worth knocking people down and shit, right?” They reach the food court and Dave frowns, trying to decide what he wants, beyond a large pop.

“I can’t think of anything I’d knock somebody over for,” Casey agrees. “Though I think I’d probably have a hard time knocking anybody over just in general, except maybe somebody’s grandma or something, and then I’d just feel so _guilty_.” He shakes his head. “I think if I ever have to do a lot of holiday shopping, I’ll just hold out for Cyber Monday.”

“I’m always afraid they’re going to steal my debit card information. A client of my dad’s lost like, a thousand dollars that way.”

“Oh, I think it’s pretty secure if you look for the ones that are, um, secure. I mean, the ones that have a secure server and encrypt all your stuff,” Casey says, nodding, a very serious look on his face.

“Yeah, maybe.” Dave decides just to go for the pretzel and heads towards the line for them. “You getting one?”

“Oh, no, I’m not hungry, really,” Casey says, though he gives the pretzels a wistful glance. “I’ll go grab us a table, though.”

“Ok, cool.” It doesn’t take long for Dave to get his pretzel and very large pop. He turns to scan the crowded seating area, catching sight of Casey’s red hair after a moment. He winds through the tables and finally claims the empty chair across from Casey. “Whew.”

“So many people in here!”

Dave nods, mouth full of pretzel. After swallowing, he replies, “Yeah, I thought the hardcore shoppers would have gone to Toledo or Dayton.”

“Kurt and the glee girls were going to Columbus,” Casey says. “Kurt was taking lists for everybody. I saw him on his way out on Tuesday and he said he had something like five or six lists from people! That’s a lot of shopping.” Casey shakes his head, seemingly amazed by the volume of purchases some people are willing to make.

“You couldn’t pay me enough to sit in a car with some of those girls,” Dave laughs. “The bitchfest between Fabray and Berry alone would be enough to keep me out.”

“I think Rachel is very nice,” Casey says, diplomatically. “She and Finn are so sweet with each other. It’s just...it’s nice to see, you know?”

“It really is nice that they’ve been stable so long,” Dave agrees, thinking that it almost seems like a miracle that Hudson’s been with one girl for more than three months straight. “For awhile, it was like the Finn Hudson Revolving Carousel of Women.”

Casey’s eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up almost into his hairline. “ _Really_? I thought he’d been with Rachel for ever!”

“Nah. First there was Fabray, then Rachel, then Santana, then Rachel again, then Quinn again, _then_ Rachel this time.”

“Oh, wow, that’s, um. He must have been very busy.” Casey’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

Dave laughs. “Yeah, busy keeping them all from hitting each other and causing drama before glee club competitions, from what I heard.”

“But I thought Santana was dating Brittany,” Casey says, looking puzzled.

“Well, yeah,” Dave nods. “But before that. I don’t know, I pick it up from locker room gossip and what ‘Tana told me.” He grins. “You should’ve been here two years ago, that was crazy.”

Casey wrinkles his freckled nose in a little confused smile. “Crazier than now? I don’t think I want to have been here!”

“The head cheerleader got pregnant,” Dave says, folding up his now-empty pretzel paper. “And everyone thought it was her boyfriend’s, but it was actually his best friend’s.” He smirks a little. “I swear, it was the strangest drama to watch unfold.”

“Wow, that’s soap opera excitement right there!” Casey bounces in his seat a little. “Who was the head cheerleader before Quinn? Did they ever figure out whose baby it was before she had it? Did she _keep_ it?” He pauses for a moment. “Did it have an evil twin?”

“An evil...” Dave chuckles. “No. Quinn _was_ the head cheerleader, Case. Puckerman slept with her behind Hudson’s back, or something like that? Anyway, she gave the baby up for adoption.” He narrows his eyes. “An evil twin, really?”

“Everybody on soap operas has an evil twin,” Casey shrugs, like it’s not only obvious, but one of the most normal parts of soap operas. “I didn’t know Quinn had a baby, but I don’t ever really talk to Quinn or anything. But, um. Are you _sure_ Puck was the one who, you know, um.”

“Knocked her up?” Dave interrupts. “Yeah, it was definitely Puckerman. More of that glee club drama. Makes me glad I don’t sing.”

“Me too!” Casey says. “That I don’t, I mean. I wouldn’t mind if you sing.” His face goes pink again.

“You might!” Dave warns him with a grin. “I guess we ought to let those people sit down,” he adds, gesturing to the harried looking woman carting her elderly mother along. He stands up and pulls his chair out, gesturing for her to lead her mother along. Dave helps the woman get her mother situated and then smiles. “Merry Christmas,” he says and walks to where Casey is standing nearby. “Why did she bring her out here on Black Friday?” Dave shakes his head.

“Maybe she likes to shop?” Casey suggests. “Or maybe she had a regular home caretaker, but her caretaker likes to shop, and has the day off?”

“Oh, well, maybe so,” Dave concedes. “Do you have to meet up with your mom again soon, or you want to head to GameStop with me?”

“I think she’d just as soon me stay out from under her feet until she’s done,” Casey sighs. “What kind of game system do you have?”

“Wii,” Dave answers. “You ever have a chance to play _Super Mario Galaxy_?”


	3. Episode 3x11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Black Friday, Friday. Gotta get deals on Black Friday! Kurt's doing the shopping for every-bod-y.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [playlist for this episode](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLCA78F7CB3AFC1304) \-- Kurt's shopping playlist

Around 10 am on Sunday morning, it hits Puck that it’s the twentieth of November and he has to have the rest of his applications in by the first of December, and he’s got a forty-hour workweek scheduled, practically, plus an extra shift the next weekend, too, and a take-home exam due (via email) by 4 pm Wednesday.

Shit.

Puck takes a break a few minutes later and pulls out his phone, sending Kurt a text.

 _Work on apps 2day?_

The response is quick, and somehow Puck thinks maybe Kurt feels the same sort of panic.

 _Yes, good idea. Still your place?_

 _At least for an hour or 2. Might need piano after that_

 _K. See you at 2_

“Why is everything happening all at once?” is how Kurt greets Puck just a few hours later. “I thought maybe this week would feel less busy, since we only have school Monday and Tuesday, and yet...”

“And yet,” Puck agrees.

“I still have those vests to make. Why did I think that was a good idea?”

“Because you couldn’t find anything already made that you thought would work?”

“Yes,” Kurt admits, defeated. “That.”

Puck laughs a little. “We’ll figure it out, blue eyes.”

“If you say so,” Kurt replies ruefully.

The truth is, both of them are already _nearly_ done with their applications, and they each hit submit a little after four pm. Puck still has to refine one of his scores, so they decide to grab an early dinner from Joey’s and head over to Kurt’s, especially since they have rehearsal there at seven, anyway.

“I can’t believe it hasn’t snowed yet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining,” Kurt continues, “but it seems like we might hit Thanksgiving without any snow.”

“I’ve heard horror stories about working opening when it’s snowed the night before,” Puck snorts. “So it probably will snow this week, since I’m opening almost every day.”

“Yeah, what schedule did you end up with?”

“Opening Wednesday through Sunday. Wednesday I may have to leave work at noon instead of two, depends on math. I so didn’t expect to have dual enrollment classes on a day we didn’t have class at school.”

“Me either. At least my history class is cancelled.”

“Oh, and I have to go in at something insanely early on Friday. Starbucks is open for the convenience of those insane Black Friday shoppers.” Puck smirks at Kurt.

“How early? I bet I’ll still be up earlier than you. It’s an hour or so to Columbus. I’m picking up everyone by four.”

“Yeah, I have to open at four, so I have to be there by 3:30.”

Kurt frowns but doesn’t say anything else, and then they order before Puck can ask what Kurt’s thinking.

Puck makes a few changes and works a little more at the piano, using his guitar, too, and Kurt sits on the couch nearby working on some kind of French assignment and looking over at Puck to grin periodically, or even occasionally get up and kiss Puck languidly before walking back to the couch and sitting down, leaving Puck to work more. Puck finally shoves all his papers back into something resembling a pile around 6:30, and they wander into the kitchen to look for, as Kurt puts it, a post-dinner snack, “since we ate so early.”

Puck leans against the counter next to the refrigerator while Kurt opens the door and frowns as he rummages through it, seemingly discontent with all of its offerings. Finn comes lumbering into the kitchen and starts a little when he sees Puck and Kurt there.

“You guys didn’t eat the Pop Tarts, did you?” Finn asks.

“The brown sugar frosted ones?” Puck asks, taking a guess and wondering if he can screw with Finn’s head a little.

“Yeah?” Finn says, cautiously. “Aw, man, did you eat them?”

Kurt seems to catch what Puck’s doing, especially since this is the first time they’ve walked into the kitchen since they arrived earlier. “Oh, I thought you meant the strawberry ones,” he says casually.

“No, dude, remember?” Finn says, sounding distressed and a little whiny. “The strawberry ones make my mouth tingle. Mom says she thinks I’m allergic to strawberry, but I think it’s the red food coloring.”

“I always like it when something makes my mouth tingle,” Puck muses, smirking in Finn’s direction. “I guess we should have taken the strawberry ones, K. Your brother’s going to get tingly-mouth.”

Finn looks very sad and sighs dramatically. “I guess I’ll find something else.” He opens up the cabinet and starts moving things around. “ _Hey_! My Pop Tarts are still in here!”

Puck snorts out a laugh and Kurt giggles as he pulls his head out of the freezer for a minute. “You are so easy, man,” Puck grins. Kurt closes the door and starts the oven preheating, still giggling, probably at Finn’s face.

“Yeah, well,” Finn says, happily tearing into his box of Pop Tarts. “I may be easy, but I’ve got Pop Tarts, so whatever.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got... what do I have, blue eyes?”

“Just your favorite, how do you put it? Awesome potato things.”

Puck grins. “Score.” He tugs Kurt close, Kurt’s back to his chest. “Those are the best.”

“Ooh, pierogies!” Finn exclaims. “I love those things. Share?”

“No,” Kurt says calmly before Puck can even protest. “You have an entire box of Pop Tarts.”

“But Pop Tarts are sweet,” Finn whines, “and I always need something salty after I eat something sweet. Just _one_?”

Kurt shrugs against Puck’s chest, and Puck drops his chin on Kurt’s shoulder, nuzzling at Kurt’s neck a little. “It’s up to Puck, then.”

“Please, Puck?” Finn mock-begs. “I’ll even grovel!”

“I don’t know,” Puck pretends to consider. “Are they little ones or the big ones, K?”

“The little ones.”

“Yeah, okay, fine. One,” Puck concedes, though his answer would’ve been the same regardless. Finn doesn’t need to know that.

“Dude! Sweet!” Finn puts up his hand for a high five.

Puck rolls his eyes, but his face is still half-buried in Kurt’s neck, so he’s pretty sure Finn doesn’t see it, and he unwraps one arm so his hand can meet Finn’s, bracing himself a little since Finn never has figured out that he’s stronger than he was in fourth grade. Finn’s subsequent high five is certainly vigorous.

“Did you work earlier?” Kurt asks Finn after a moment.

“Yeah, I’ve got two days scheduled this week, but the other one is gonna be way late, because it’s stocking.”

“It’s the Hanukkah present I’ve always dreamed off: a shopping spree at Sheets N Things,” Puck says dryly.

“Toilet lid covers are such a must-have home accessory,” Kurt nods.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Finn warns. “I was gonna use my employee discount to hook you up with towels and sheets for New York, but if you don’t want anything like that...”

“Chill, dude, we weren’t dissing your stocking skills.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Finn,” Kurt adds, nodding. “But you have to admit that even you don’t find the wares you’re selling to be all that thrilling.”

“Oh, it’s totally boring as hell,” Finn confesses, grinning. “Still, I’m your go-to guy for towels and those things for holding your toothbrush. Toothbrush holders? Maybe they’re caddies, I dunno.”

“Can you get one that sticks on the ceiling or something? ‘Cause I think we’ll totally need to use every available square inch of storage,” Puck points out, reluctantly releasing Kurt so he can throw the potato puff things in the oven. Whatever Finn called them.

“I think there’s one that’ll suction cup to your wall,” Finn offers. “Lots of suction cup stuff for bathrooms.”

“Yeah, we need, like, the Spiderman line of products or something,” Puck says, briefly imagining how useful it would be for stuff to stick wherever you threw it.

Kurt shakes his head, grinning, and steps back in front of Puck after setting the timer. “Peter Parker could have made ends meet offering his services to fellow New Yorkers.”

Finn looks at them strangely. “You guys are weird.”

“Why, exactly?”

“Spiderman’s not _real_ ,” Finn replies, shaking his head.

“Duh, dude,” Puck shakes his head.

“We have to make do with the magic of Ikea instead.”

“I don’t like Ikea. Too much walking.” Finn frowns, but his face almost immediately brightens again. “Ooh, but the meatballs are awesome!”

“You can put that on your list, then.”

“List?” Puck wrinkles his forehead, and then decides that Kurt’s earlobe looks like a decent substitute until the timer goes off, nibbling at it.

“You know. Shopping. If I have lots of lists, who can say what anything is for, blah blah,” Kurt waves his hand a little as he reminds Puck.

Puck releases Kurt’s earlobe for a second. “Oh, right. You’re going all the way to Cincy?”

“I don’t want meatballs for Christmas, dude.”

“No, I mean, I can pick up some of the frozen ones for you. If you want.” Kurt shrugs and moves his head a little towards Puck’s, which Puck takes as invitation enough to resume his unconventional snacking.

Finn, who is pointedly _not_ looking at Puck’s ear-nibbling, asks, “Will you get some packets of the sauce, too? Oh, and the red stuff. I think that comes in a jar. Oh, and do they sell the mashed potatoes or can you only get them in the food court, because those were really good.”

Kurt sighs just a little, and Puck thinks he might’ve rolled his eyes, before responding. “I’ll check. Write it all down. Along with anything else you want me to buy. Look at this way, Finn–I get the joy of shopping, and you get the joy of _not_ having to go shopping.”

“This is why you’re the best brother I’ve ever had,” Finn says, somberly. “You’re very thoughtful like that.”

“I aim to serve,” Kurt says dryly. The oven timer dings at last, and Puck lets Kurt escape with a last kiss behind his ear, which makes Kurt wriggle delightfully as he grabs the hot pad and then pulls the potato puff things out of the oven.

“Mmm,” Puck sniffs appreciatively.

Finn starts to reach for one of the steaming potato things, when Kurt slaps Finn’s hand. “Good lord, Finn. _Patience_.”

“Are we still having that conversation?” Puck asks, grabbing a couple of plates from the cabinet.

“When something’s good, it’s hard to wait for it!” Finn explains.

“When something’s really good, it’s _worth_ waiting for it,” Puck counters.

Finn shrugs. Puck grabs the spatula and divides the things up between the two plates, then tosses one at Finn. “Blow on it,” he says with a grin, then turns back to the plates and hands one to Kurt.

“Thank you,” Kurt smiles.

“No, thank you,” Puck counters, smirking a little, and he figures Finn’s probably turning purple or acting strangled or something, so he deliberately doesn’t look over there until he hears Finn moving around.

Despite Kurt’s warnings to wait, Finn’s bitten right into his potato thing and is doing the “hot! hot!” mouth movement he does, and isn’t actually paying Puck or Kurt any attention. Puck grins at that, and leans over to kiss Kurt, deepening the kiss when he realizes Kurt hasn’t taken a bite yet. Puck slides his plate onto the counter and cups Kurt’s face in his hands, drawing the kiss out as long as he can, because damn, Kurt was worth every single minute he waited.

After a moment, Puck registers the sound of Kurt putting his plate down, too, and then Kurt’s hands are resting on Puck’s jaw and the back of his head, holding Puck in place and pressing his chest tight against Puck’s chest, and Puck spares a moment to be thankful that Burt or Carole one keeps the heat up pretty high, so there’s only one thick layer on Kurt at the moment.

Finn coughs politely. Well, it’s not exactly politely, but it’s not that strangled sound he sometimes makes. It’s just a cough. Puck mentally groans, because he hadn’t exactly _forgot_ Finn was there, he just... forgot he was there. He pulls away slowly, resting his forehead on Kurt’s and grinning at him until Kurt’s grinning back at him, cheeks flushed. Puck holds Kurt’s gaze for a long moment before he pulls farther back, his hands falling to his side as he steps just a little to the left and reclaims his plate. He thinks briefly that he should probably apologize or whatever, but hey, at least they weren’t getting all “grindy.”

Kurt’s tongue darts out, moistening his lips a little, probably unconsciously, and then he picks up his own plate and takes a bite. “Seven, right?” Kurt says after eating that bite.

“What’s at seven?”

“The other nine of us descending on your house like a horde of ravenous crows?” Puck suggests.

“Only things with feet come in hordes,” Finn says, randomly. “Crows are a murder. I read it in National Geographic Kids.”

“That’s disturbing,” Kurt remarks, and Puck wonders if it’s the fact that crows come in a murder that’s disturbing, or where Finn gained that information. Either way, he agrees that it’s a little disturbing, and he nods. Finn also nods in agreement, obviously assuming that Kurt’s commentary is on the crows.

Before anyone can comment further on crows, glee club, or Finn’s choice of reading material, the doorbell rings. “I guess it is seven,” Kurt says with a glance at the clock, which reads five til.

Finn rushes to the door to answer it, catching his foot in the rug again, but remaining upright. Puck can hear Mike’s voice, and it sounds absently wrong to hear Mike without Tina just before or just after. Puck sighs a little and steps away from Kurt just a bit, still balancing his plate of potato things in one hand before setting it down and opening the refrigerator. “Pop, K?”

“Yes, please,” Kurt responds, and Puck passes him a can before grabbing one for himself and then shutting the door just as Mike walks in. “Hey dude.”

“Hey guys,” Mike grins. “Oh, yum. Pierogies.”

“Second dinner,” Puck says around a mouthful of pier-whatevers.

“You’re both a little tall to be hobbits,” Mike laughs.

“Finn’s the tallest hobbit ever,” Kurt counters.

“You’d know,” Finn smirks. “You’re a hobbit expert.”

“I... don’t even want to know what that means,” Mike says before Kurt can reply. “Do I?”

“Probably not,” Puck agrees.

Finn just holds out his hand to indicate height, a very low height, and mouths “hobbit.”

“Everyone’s a hobbit compared to Finn,” Kurt shakes his head. “It’s very tragic that he’ll never realize his dream of being cast as a hobbit in a stage production of _The Return of the King_.”

Finn shakes his head sadly. “You shall not pass.”

The doorbell rings again, then, and Kurt puts down his can of pop and crosses the kitchen to the hallway. A minute later, Puck can hear Mercedes greeting Kurt enthusiastically.

“Boo, what are you eating?”

“Pierogies,” Kurt says negligently. “Hey, Sam, Artie.” There’s a bit of a clatter, which Puck assumes is Kurt and Sam lifting Artie up the porch steps and into the house, and then all four of them appear back in the kitchen, Kurt reclaiming his can and taking a sip before eating the last of his pierogies. Puck’s going to try to remember that.

“Damn, you didn’t make enough for the rest of us?” Sam mock-whines.

“They made enough for me to have _one_ ,” Finn grumbles. “And I have to _grovel_ for it.”

“You’re getting meatballs on Saturday,” Kurt says mildly.

“Because you’re the best brother ever.”

“Exactly.” Kurt smiles sweetly and turns to Mercedes. “Cincy on Saturday, it turns out Ikea is close to Kenwood.”

“Ooh, Columbus on Friday _and_ Cincy on Saturday? This is gonna be good,” Mercedes grins. “Have you started checking the leaked ads online?”

“Please. What do you think I did this morning?”

Puck just listens to their conversation, tuning out the details but sort of amazed at the way Kurt can adapt to different situations and be telling the truth but then absolutely not the entire truth at all. Then Puck realizes that he can tell when Kurt’s doing that even if he doesn’t know the entire truth, which makes him smirk a little and nod to himself, pleased.

“What?” Finn asks, looking at Puck oddly.

Puck startles a little and shakes his head once. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking.” The doorbell rings again, then, and this time, Puck decides to go answer it. Quinn, Santana, Brittany, and Rachel all are standing on the doorstep, Rachel glaring at Quinn out of the corner of her eye, and Quinn looking askance at Brittany, who’s just looking adoringly at Santana. For her part, Santana’s examining the Hudmel porch light like it’s the most fascinating thing she’s seen in her entire life. “Well, hello, ladies,” Puck says a bit sardonically, holding the door open so they can parade in.

“Puckerman,” Santana shifts her gaze from the porch light at last and nods. “Playing doorman now?”

“Figured I’d give it a run, in case Starbucks isn’t hiring when I get to the city. You know, I can just open doors for rich people who live in apartments facing Central Park or something.” He shrugs.

“You could sell their secrets,” Brittany says approvingly. “How they stole their money to buy the apartments.”

“Of course you won’t have to be a doorman!” Rachel pipes up. “There’s got to be plenty of Starbucks on either side of Central Park.”

“Joke, Rachel,” Puck shakes his head, smiling slightly at her.

“Oh, of course,” she says, a little flustered, continuing into the kitchen.

Puck reaches the doorway in time to watch Finn greet Rachel.

“Heeeey, gorgeous,” Finn intones, brushing Rachel’s bangs off of her forehead before leaning over to give her a definitely-more-passionate-than-average kiss. “You finally made it!”

Puck shakes his head a little and reaches over to snag his can of pop again, Artie motioning to him while Finn and Rachel are still liplocked. “That’s why Finn had such a good birthday, I guess,” Artie whispers, and Puck snorts and nods once.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Puck mutters back, even though he more than guesses so. Knowing Rachel and what Kurt’s told him Finn’s said, it was probably something like running his hand under Rachel’s shirt: touching but not seeing.

Kurt has an exasperated but resigned look on his face, like watching Finn and Rachel kiss is some sort of payback, which, Puck thinks, it probably is.

Finally, Finn comes up for air and notices everyone looking at him. “Well, uh, so,” he stammers. “We should probably get started, then.”

“Yeah, what’re we doing today?” Artie recovers first, and Puck thinks maybe Artie gets a medal for being unawkward.

“Oh, ok,” Finn says, taking a stance like he’s almost leaning into a huddle. “So, I had this idea. It’s really awesome and I think it’ll be great! We should try practicing the songs without the music, just, like, doing them a capella, maybe with just the beat behind them to help with the dancing.” He looks very proud of himself and his idea.

Everyone just stares at Finn for a moment, and Puck wrinkles his forehead, because it’s not a _bad_ idea, but seriously, where did it come from? He exchanges a glance with Kurt, who shrugs minutely before his eyes widen a little, and then it hits Puck, too: the whole music education thing.

Finn’s going to be insufferable before Nationals is the thought that flits across Puck’s mind, and then he nods. “Yeah, all right,” he agrees. “Let’s try it.”

There’s a few skeptical looks but no one outright argues, and Kurt gestures towards the living room, so they all troop out of the kitchen before once again turning to look at Finn.

“Let’s get the sofa slid out of the way so we have enough space,” Finn directly. “Shit, watch the lamp, Sam!”

Sam jumps back, hands up, and Puck laughs a little as he and Mike hoist the recliner backwards, too. Burt’ll probably have a fit if he sees it moved, but if they’re good, they can slide it right back into place, thanks to the marks left in the carpet. Kurt moves the xbox controllers out of the floor and Puck spares a passing thought that it’s been months since he just knocked around and played video games. Maybe he’ll have time over the Thanksgiving break or something.

“In order as a set?” Quinn asks.

Finn nods. “Hey, Kurt, you’ve got one of those things, right? The things that keep the rhythm.”

“A metronome?” Kurt clarifies. “Yes.” He walks over and grabs it, then tosses it to Puck, who sets it up for the beat of the first song.

Artie suddenly opens his mouth and blurts out "I can keep rhythm with no metronome, no metronome,” which causes Mike and Brittany to laugh as the rest of them just stare blankly.

“I tried to ride my bike with no handlebars, but I had to get stitches.” Brittany looks around the room after she finishes speaking, as if waiting for a reaction.

“Right, well, I suppose we should start,” Rachel says into the silence that follows. “Finn?”

“Ready any time you are,” Finn answers, quirking his mouth into a smile.

Rachel and Finn manage somewhat awkwardly, doing fine with the actual singing but the choreography makes Mike wince. “Seasons of Love” is probably the most successful of the night, since the choreography is more dependent on the lyrics than musical cues to begin with. It’s “I Gotta Feeling” that convinces Puck, at least, that they are not meant to be an a capella choir, and he even has a brief moment of hatred for all a capella in the midst of crashing into Brittany and Artie at the same time that Artie’s knocking over Quinn and Brittany’s tripping over Sam.

If even Brittany can’t manage without the music, they’re screwed.

The singing sounds just fine, though, and maybe as a practice technique it would work all right, for the times they can’t practice the choreography.

“So, yeah,” Finn says, scanning the other faces. “How’d we do?”

“I think it’s not bad... if we’re just practicing the singing,” Puck points out.

“Yeah, choreography without music isn’t really a great plan once you’re to the point we are in the process,” Mike agrees.

“Yeah, that kinda sucked,” Finn confesses.

“I do think that practicing singing a capella was good for us, though,” Rachel says, smiling. “Plus we can do it anywhere.”

“That’s true,” Finn answers, seemingly mollified.

Carole walks in then to offer everyone pumpkin scones and apple cider before everyone bundles up and starts to head home. Mike makes a noise about calling his dad, and Puck raises an eyebrow at Kurt, who nods.

“I can take you, Mike,” Kurt offers. “I’m already going out to take Puck home.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Mike grins, and they take Mike to his house before Kurt heads towards Puck’s apartment.

“Be good,” Kurt grins.

“I’m always good.”

 

Kurt stops in the kitchen when he gets home, snagging the last of the scones and dumping them on a plate before heading up the stairs and knocking on Finn’s door.

“Enter,” Finn calls out, in a grand, theatrical voice.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Kurt teases as he walks in.

Finn shrugs. “Yeah, seems to be the theme lately.”

Kurt sits on the edge of the bed and drops the plate between them. “This is the last of them, by the way.”

“Then I’ll just have to eat them extra thoroughly,” Finn says, helping himself to a scone.

“ _We_ will,” Kurt corrects. “I need a favor.”

“Uh...what favor?”

“I just need you to ask your mom something. And to act like it was your idea, and not mine.” Kurt shrugs and picks up a scone of his own.

“Ok, is this something that’s my idea and not yours something that’s gonna get one or both of us into trouble?” Finn asks, raising his eyebrows.

“God, no. I just need not to use up Dad’s goodwill yet. That’s for next week. Yes, I’ll explain that, too.” Kurt sighs. “Look, I’m going to be up early on Friday. Puck has to be to work early on Friday. I don’t think he needs to be walking through downtown in the middle of the night. He used to spend the night here all the time. Why couldn’t he Thursday night?”

Finn looks thoughtful. “Well, you know how _I_ feel about that,” he says, scowling. “I’ll ask mom. Won’t even bring up your name at all. Well, I’ll tell her you could drive Puck to work, but I’ll totally make it sound like my idea.”

Kurt grins. “Thanks, brother.”

“So, now why don’t you want to, whatever it was. Not take your dad to Goodwill?”

“Use up his goodwill,” Kurt laughs a little. “No, well. I want to take a few days away, during winter break. With Puck.”

“Away where?” Finn looks dubious and a little concerned.

“Chicago. We were talking about Second City, and going to see them, and it sort of morphed from there.”

“Oh, that sounds cool. You think Burt’s gonna go for it, though? That sounds like a thing that’s on that list of stuff he won’t like.” Finn’s dubious look turns into one of consternation.

“I don’t know,” Kurt sighs. “We just need a _break_. Surely he’ll understand that. I hope.”

“Dunno, dude,” Finn shrugs. “Your dad isn’t always Captain Reasonable where Puck’s concerned. Exhibit Sleeping on the Couch, for example.”

“I know.” Kurt rolls his eyes. “But he also turns a blind eye to the fact that Puck’s usually here on Tuesdays for hours without anyone else home.”

“Uh, yeah, I prefer not to think about that, dude,” Finn cringes a little and looks askance. “If you know what I mean.”

“You and my father both, apparently,” Kurt replies, amused.

Finn shrugs again. “Well, I’ll talk to mom about it. I don’t think it’ll be an issue and hopefully nobody will give you guys any crap over your trip later on.”

“Thanks.” Kurt smiles. “By the way, that really was a good idea tonight.”

“Really?” Finn seems surprised by the praise. “You think so?”

“Yes,” Kurt nods emphatically. “Not the trying to dance without the music, mind, but it is good for us to sing a capella periodically.”

“Since we got back from Wisconsin, I’ve been doing a lot of reading online,” Finn confesses. “You know, the kind of stuff that you might do in a music class or with a choir.” He looks a little sheepish. “Did you know that Mr. Schue pretty much doesn’t do _any_ of it? Most of those choirs start practicing _way_ early!”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why Rachel & I both disappear before a competition?” Kurt asks. “We warm up. I didn’t realize Rachel was doing it, too, until I ran into her at Regionals last year.”

“I know, right?” Finn shakes his head. “I mean, if I’d known about all of this stuff last year, maybe we could have actually won Nationals. Or if we’d decided to start running the club ourselves then.”

Kurt shrugs. “Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda. But at least we know now.”

“And knowing is half the battle,” Finn says sagely.

“Indeed.” Kurt snorts. “I’m going to go collapse onto my bed. You mind taking the plate down?”

“Not a problem. I’ll see if I can snag my mom if she’s still up, bring up the Thursday night thing,” Finn says.

“Thanks.” Kurt stands and smiles. “Night, Finn.”

“Night, Kurt.”

 

Schue is pacing the choir room like some kind of maniac when Puck walks in on Monday morning. Everyone sits in the chairs, watching him, until he realizes with a start that they’re all there. Well, all of them except Tina, and Mike looks even more forlorn than he did the night before. Considering Tina was leaving on Friday, Puck sort of gets that, and he nudges Kurt. “We should give Mike a ride after this.”

Kut nods. “Yeah, we should.”

“Guys!” Schue suddenly calls out. “I’ve been thinking about our set list all weekend long. I think we should split up a lot of ‘I Gotta Feeling’ so that everyone has little solos and parts they sing with one or two others.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Rachel agrees, eyes a little wide. “I’m sure that will work really well.”

“Great! Any suggestions?”

“Brittany should sing the female lead,” Finn says, firmly. “She even sounds like what’s-her-face.”

“I agree,” Mercedes nods. “I think that would work really well.”

Kurt speaks without really looking at Schue, very casually. “Rachel and Puck should sing the ‘mazel tov’ part.”

Rachel giggles, and Puck thinks maybe she’s going to give away the game, but then she says “Finn should do the l’chaim.”

“Only if Kurt’ll do it with me,” Finn says quickly, before Schue can interject. “He can help me with my pronunciation!”

“Sure,” Kurt shrugs. “I want the line about the roof, too.”

“Wow, you guys sure do know this song well,” Schue comments, looking impressed. “Did you all go home and listen to it over the weekend?”

“Yes!” Finn blurts. “That’s exactly what we did! Actually, we all got together just to listen to it. You know, to make sure everybody listened.”

“Oh, well, great,” Schue nods. “I bet that was fun!” He grins at them all. “Mike, did you have any thoughts on the dancing for that one? You said something about auditions, so I’m guessing you have at least part of it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Mike replies. “I, uh. Showed everybody. While we were listening. Over the weekend.”

“All right! Let’s see it!”

Everyone looks at each other, not sure if Schue means for all of them to do it or just Mike, and in the end, Finn shrugs and gestures everyone up, with a slightly desperate look on his face. They take their places and Puck wonders how they’re going to manage this when he realizes the jazz band isn’t there. Perfect.

“Hey, let’s do it without the music,” he calls out.

“Absolutely. Let’s sing it a capella,” Rachel quickly seconds him, and Schue nods a little, looking surprised but not dubious.

The dancing is just as bad as it was the night before, except no one falls on their ass, and it’s all Puck can do to keep from laughing hysterically, because they are so far from an a capella group that it’s not even funny.

“Well, it definitely needs some polish,” Schue says, “but I can see the potential, definitely. Great job, Mike!”

“Yeah, I think we aren’t meant to sing without music,” Finn says, sounding relieved. “I bet we’d be great if we started running through it _with_ the music, though.”

“Probably not,” Schue agrees with a laugh, and then has them just sing to “Seasons of Love” for the rest of the time, admonishing them to practice all of their songs over the Thanksgiving break before releasing them ahead of the bell.

“Mike,” Kurt calls. “Need a ride?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Mike grins. “What’s for lunch?”

“Taco Bell,” Puck interjects. “Definitely Taco Bell.”

Kurt shrugs. “You heard the man. I’m just the driver,” he adds wryly.

Mike laughs. “Sounds good, anyway.” Mike follows them out to the Nav, and Puck figures that if someone who isn’t Finn (or Rachel, now) has to ride with them, Mike’s a good choice. They place a gigantic order in the drive-through and split it between them, laughing about Schue’s reaction to their ‘dancing’ and how he hasn’t yet figure out anything is suspicious. Before they drop Mike off, after classes, Kurt offers to swing by and get him on Wednesday as well, which Mike accepts gratefully. “Thanks, guys.”

“Not a problem,” Kurt assures him.

Puck spends another Monday afternoon alone, rattling around the apartment, except at least this time he knows Kurt is really only a few blocks away, at work, and he'll be there for dinner. Still, Puck sort of wastes the afternoon without really meaning to do so, checking email and wasting time on YouTube and Facebook before he actually works on his take-home exam for a little bit.

"Noah!" Hannah barrels into his room, making Puck jump, because he hadn't even heard the door open.

"Hey, squirt."

"We had our dress rehearsal today! It's going to be so awesome! You are coming, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be there," Puck replied, because chances were, his mom wasn't getting off work early to go, and Hannah deserved to have someone there.

"What about Kurt?"

"I don't know, Hannah. I'll ask him tonight, okay? But don't be disappointed if he doesn't come."

"But I want him there! He's so cool." She pouts. "It's got singing and dancing, and I know he likes musicals."

Puck shakes his head. "We'll see, okay?" He stands up. "C'mon, let's go find out if Mom needs us to start anything for dinner yet."

"I think she said something about pasta."

Puck shrugs and walks out of the room. His mom hasn't brought up anything since the other day, but they seem to be back to dancing around the subject like they had for months. It's not the best solution, Puck knows that, but at least there's no yelling, and they can probably go another few months this way before they really have to stop and consider all of it.

"What's for dinner, Mom?"

"I found this recipe for chicken parmesan that's supposed to be super-easy," Rina replies, brandishing a piece of printer paper. "Can you pound the chicken breasts, Hannah? Noah, can you make the milk and egg mixture, please?" Puck nods and takes the paper from his mom's hand as Hannah starts beating on the chicken breasts. "After you finish that, I'll take over, and I want the two of you to write down a few ideas for me for Hanukkah. I don't know when I'll get the time to shop, mind you."

"Oh, yeah, Kurt said something about that, he's taking a list and cash from a bunch of people on Friday and Saturday. Carole, Finn, maybe his dad, I don't know. Anyway, he said he'd do that for either of you, if you want."

"Oh, that would be a huge help," Rina sighs. "I can give it to him on Thursday?"

Puck nods. "Yeah, that should be fine."

"I want Kurt to _take_ me shopping!"

"Yeah, he's already got a full load, squirt. But maybe you and me can do something after I get off work Friday, all right? I'll be home by 12:30."

"Why so early?"

"I have to be there by 3:30," Puck sighs. "Because of Black Friday shoppers."

"Like Kurt."

"Like Kurt," Puck agrees with Hannah. He finishes his appointed task and takes the piece of paper his mom offers, heading back to his room to think.

He doesn't really want a lot of things, and some of the things he does want are pretty expensive–a new computer is at the top of that list, a laptop and not just a desktop. He tries to think about what they might need for New York and most of that's stuff they're going to want to wait and get at Ikea. Puck purses his lips and writes that down–Ikea gift card.

That gets him thinking, then, that maybe the kind of stuff he spends little amounts of money on, he could save some of it, anyway, so he writes down a few more ideas for gift cards, and then says the hell with it, and writes down 'Xbox,' because somehow he bets the Hudmel Xbox will either go with Finn or be left in Lima out of some attempt at fairness. It's not like his mom's probably going to be able to afford it, but sometimes she shares his list with his Nana.

Puck frowns a little. He hasn't seen his Nana in _months_. She was going on some kind of Alaskan cruise and she does all these senior citizen trips, but still. He's not really even sure if she knows he's gay, much less about Kurt. That probably needs taken care of.

He looks at his list again and adds a last gift card, to GameStop, because maybe if his Nana comes through with the Xbox, he can pick up a game or something. Then Puck shrugs and makes a note at the bottom about what Kurt might like, because he knows his mom probably isn't going to be getting eight different things for Kurt, but Kurt'll be around for at least a few nights of Hanukkah, and even if they're small things, it'd be good of her to have something.

Puck stands back up, folds the list in half, and walks back into the kitchen where his mom is just closing the oven. "Here," he offers her the paper. "It's a lot of gift cards, but." He shrugs.

"That's fine," Rina says, almost wearily. "If it's what you need. Or want. Whichever."

"Yeah, basically," Puck nods, and then goes back into his room, because he's gonna need to ask Rachel if she can pick up a few things for him. It's a little hard to shop for Kurt when Kurt is pretty much always with him whenever Puck's shopping.

He sketches out a quick list, knowing he can order some stuff online, and then makes a shorter list for Rachel. He's about to do some checking on prices when he hears a knock at the door and he jumps up, shoving both lists under a stack of books on his desk. Hannah beats him to the door anyway.

"Kurt! You have to tell Noah that you'll come tomorrow! And he said you're going shopping on Friday, I'm so jealous!"

"Let him in, already," Puck breaks in, leaning over Hannah's head to kiss Kurt firmly. "Hi," he adds with a grin after pulling away.

"Hi there," Kurt grins back. He steps fully inside the apartment, and Puck closes the door behind him, putting his arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him close. "Good afternoon?"

"All right," Puck shrugs, tugging Kurt towards the couch before changing course and sitting down in the chair, Kurt squeezing in half on top and half beside him. "You?"

"Boring," Kurt says with a sigh. "Lots of oil changes and new tires. I have a feeling most of the week will be this way."

Puck nods, resting his head against Kurt's shoulder. "Probably." He looks around and sees that his mom and Hannah have both disappeared, probably to their bedrooms. "What time do you think you'll be back on Friday?"

"Friday? Maybe 2 or 3. After 11 or 12, the deals aren't any better than they'll be all weekend long. We'll probably eat and then head back."

"Oh, damn, I'll miss the food court," Puck frowns.

Kurt laughs. "Yeah, you will."

"Anyway, want to go to Color Me Mine with Hannah and I? I am gonna have her just paint something for mom. Maybe two somethings, that's a couple of nights of Hanukkah that way."

"Sure. Maybe I should paint something extremely gaudy for Finn. I'll tell him it's in style and he should display it proudly in his dorm room."

"You have an evil mind, blue eyes. Evil _genius_ mind, but still." Puck grins up at Kurt, and Kurt leans down, brushing their lips together and then sliding his tongue along Puck's lips. Kurt lets his own tongue dart out, sliding alongside Puck's, and Puck is reminded once again that he'd rather just kiss Kurt, even if they can't take it any farther, than do just about anything else without Kurt there. Kurt's hands run over Puck's head, gentle over the shaved portion and then tugging on his mohawk. Puck's lips curve into a smile and he runs his hand down Kurt's side, then up under the loose sweater Kurt's wearing.

It's actually a great sweater, and Puck needs to remember to tell Kurt to wear it more often, except maybe on weekends or Tuesdays, because the neck is pretty loose and it shows a lot of Kurt's pale skin and, well, Puck likes Kurt's skin. It's pretty loose overall, especially for Kurt, and it's easy to run his hands all the way up Kurt's back and down, then trail one hand up Kurt's chest, gliding his thumb over Kurt's nipple.

Yeah, Hannah's in the next room, and yeah, his mom's home, but they are fully clothed and the weekend pretty much sucked; yeah, they had a couple of hours Friday night at the movie but damn, it turned out _Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy_ was actually pretty interesting, so they'd _watched_ the movie. Plus the theatre'd been kind of crowded, even with one of those stupid vampire movies opening the same day.

So Puck's not going to voluntarily stop making out with Kurt, and if he had his way, he'd pull off his shirt and Kurt would take off that sweater, and his mom could just deal and keep Hannah out of the way or whatever. He moves his thumb over Kurt's nipple again, and Kurt arches towards him, his hands tugging more firmly at Puck's hair. Puck thrusts his tongue into Kurt's mouth again, harder, and he can feel Kurt sort of hum or something, the sound vibrating down Kurt's tongue and into Puck's mouth and fuck, that's hot. Everything about Kurt is hot, really, and Puck shifts a little, his erection tightly held against Kurt's leg. Kurt slowly breaks the kiss, his head tilting back as he makes a breathy little whine, and Puck trails his mouth along Kurt's jaw and then down his neck. He licks experimentally at a spot and then scrapes his teeth over it lightly, trying to decide if Kurt's going to flip his lid if Puck gives him a huge hickey right before Thanksgiving.

Kurt must sense Puck's hesitation, because he just nods a little and moves his neck against Puck's mouth, and Puck grins before latching on to the soft skin presented to him. He works assiduously, because if Kurt's giving him permission, he's going to make it worth the trouble Kurt'll probably go to to keep it more or less concealed.

Puck's just finished to his satisfaction, slowly licking the dark spot and kissing it gently, when he hears Hannah's footsteps coming towards them, and he pulls back reluctantly. He grins up at Kurt, who rolls his eyes a little, but he's grinning, too, and yeah, it's not like an afternoon alone, but it's something, at least.

"Ooh, did you fall?" Hannah bursts out.

"Did who fall?" Puck asks, frowning.

"Kurt. He's got a bruise!"

"Oh, um. No," Kurt stammers out, blushing, and he tries to glare at Puck. The effect is largely lost, though, thanks to the corners of his mouth threatening to twitch up into a smile.

"Oh. Weird." Hannah shrugs. "Did you decide if you're coming tomorrow yet? It's going to be really cool."

"Well." Kurt looks at Puck and raises his eyebrow, questioning, and Puck gets what he's asking. High school students don't go to their friends' little sisters' elementary school programs, no matter how close they are to their friends. Taking Kurt–well, if they were a straight couple, it'd be like announcing their engagement in some people's minds, especially in a small town like Lima. Puck just nods, though, because it might be a big risk, but it'll make Hannah happy and if they sit in the back (which they'll probably have to do, since the program is literally just after school, and the elementary school classes end ten minutes before the high school final bell rings), most people aren't going to pay too much attention. Kurt looks a little surprised but nods back, and then turns to Hannah. "All right. I'll be there, too."

"Yes!" Hannah jumps up. "Cool!" Then she's off again, headed towards Rina's bedroom. "Mom! Hey, Mom! Guess what?"

"You sure?" Kurt murmurs, and Puck snorts.

"I should be asking you that. It's probably going to be excruciatingly boring. I mean, every single grade does a skit or something."

"Well, with any luck, we'll miss a grade or two by getting there a little late," Kurt laughs. "And we'll still have later in the afternoon."

"That's true." Kurt slides off Puck's lap and pulls him to stand beside him. Puck wraps his arms around Kurt, embracing him tightly. "I love you," he whispers in Kurt's ear, and he can feel Kurt melt against him.

"I love you, too," Kurt returns, voice low and breath tickling Puck's scalp.

Puck doesn't release Kurt for a long moment, and then they walk silently into the kitchen, getting out the salad and making some garlic bread before setting the table. When the timer dings, Hannah reemerges, Rina behind her.

"Hello, Kurt," Rina smiles. "Oh, thank you, boys. The salad looks delicious."

"There's garlic bread in the toaster oven," Puck supplies.

"Yum!"

"Hello, Rina," Kurt finally manages to respond. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Hannah, don't eat all the croutons out of your salad."

"But that's the best part, Mom!"

It takes another five minutes at least before all the food is on the table and they're sitting down to eat, and once all of them have a plate, there's silence for a few moments.

"Are you boys excited about the break?" Rina asks, almost absently. "I know you're going to be working a lot, Noah, but at least you don't have school."

"Yeah, I'll be done by two each day," Puck responds. "And it looks like we won't have much homework over the break."

"I half-expected our physics teacher to announce a test next week, just to give me something to be ungrateful for," Kurt adds, "but thankfully, no."

"Oh, I told Mom about your shopping list thing," Puck cuts in suddenly.

"Oh, yes, Rina, seriously. I think I'm going to have envelopes of cash with lists on them. I love finding a good deal, so it's a win-win, I think."

"It sounds like a godsend," Rina replies with a smile. "I can give you the list on Thursday?"

"Absolutely." Kurt smiles.

"It's so nice of Carole and your father to include us," Rina continues. "Noah will tell you, some years we just eat at Golden Corral or the Cracker Barrel. I wish Carole'd let me bring something besides the mashed potatoes and the cranberry sauce." She's almost fretting, and Puck shakes his head.

"Relax, Mom. You remember Carole has always loved making those huge meals. You ought to see the snacks she makes for our glee rehearsals!"

Kurt nods. "It's true. When I left the house this morning, she was asking Dad if he thought a carrot dish and a sweet potato dish overlapped each other too much."

"It's a rainbow Thanksgiving?" Puck can't help but quip, raising one eyebrow, and they all laugh.

After they eat, Kurt washes the dishes while Hannah dries and Puck puts them up, and then Puck drags Kurt into his room just as Kurt's phone buzzes. He pulls it out and reads the text, frowning.

"What is it?"

"Finn wants to know what time I think we'll be back from Cincinnati on Saturday. Why do I have a feeling this involves a glee rehearsal of some sort?"

"Because your brother has become a maniac?"

"We created a monster, baby." Kurt shakes his head and responds quickly to the text. "There. Somehow I anticipate a mass text in a bit."

"Probably," Puck snorts. He flops onto the bed and then rolls sideways when Kurt sits beside him. "Do we have to do anything tonight, K?"

"Other than your take-home exam and my French paper, you mean?" Kurt shakes his head. "Slow night in Lima."

"Every night is a slow night in Lima."

Kurt giggles. "Isn't that the truth?"

"So all I have to do is give you a list, huh? What if I don't really know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, for Hannah. Can I just tell you to pick her out something cool to wear?"

"Sure. Just give me a price range and a general idea." Kurt shrugs and then lies down next to Puck. "Do you get Hannah eight things?"

"Eh. Sometimes? Like if I have you buy her an outfit or something, and there were three things, I'd probably give her one part each night for three nights. I guess definitely not eight this year, since we'll be gone on the last night."

"Ooh, we still have to break that to them. Think that'd make good Thanksgiving dinner conversation?"

Puck laughs. "Yeah, that'll go over well."

"At least it's honest and upfront," Kurt replies primly.

Both of their phones buzz, then, and they look at each other and laugh. "There's that mass text," Puck says unnecessarily, and he pulls out his phone to read the message from Finn.

 _glee rehers Sat after Thanksgiv @ 5 except for ppl shopping w/ kurt. u guys can show up whenever kurt decides ur done!_

Puck snorts and quickly fires off a response to everyone.

 _sir yes sir_

A few seconds later, Kurt’s response comes through.

 _Thank you for giving me that authority, little brother O:)_

Puck laughs. “He did sort of leave you completely in charge, didn’t he?”

“He really did,” Kurt agrees, smug.

 

Puck walks into English on Tuesday morning balancing his coffee cup and the last of his (third) croissant sandwich, and sits down heavily next to Finn. “Hey, dude.”

“‘Sup?” Finn responds, putting up a fist for a knuckle-bump.

Puck sets down his coffee and completes the gesture. “Last day for awhile, that’s cool.”

“So, do you wanna crash at my place on Thanksgiving?” Finn asks. “My mom said it’s ok. It makes sense, you know, because you have to be up ass-early and Kurt’s getting up really early for shopping, so if you stayed...” Finn shrugs. “Better than walking somewhere at 3 in the morning, right?”

“Cool.” Puck gives Finn an appraising look. “Sounds good.” He looks around the room and smirks a little. “Sure your brother won’t mind giving me a ride?”

Finn cocks his head at Puck like he’s not sure if Puck is kidding or being serious. “Uh, yeah?”

Puck snorts. “It’s very thoughtful of you, dude.”

“I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“Speaking of thoughtfulness. Dude. I was–oh, fuck, don’t laugh, okay?”

“Ok.”

Puck lowers his voice a little. “So I was online and that Lush place, they have like, this gold star-themed thing. So you should get Kurt to pick it up for you to give to Rachel.”

Finn doesn’t laugh, but he snorts a little. “Lush? The fancy bath stuff place that Kurt likes so much? Why would you--oh, duh. Of course.” He shakes his head at himself. “So, gold star stuff? That’s cool. Thanks, man. Yeah, she’ll love that!”

Puck laughs a little when Finn starts to ask why he’d be looking at it, because, seriously, has Finn not met his own brother? “This is seriously a win-win, though, man. I hate Hanukkah shopping.”

“But Kurt and Rachel _love_ shopping!” Finn says. “This is _perfect_! It’s like stealth Santa. Or stealth Jewish Santa. Wait, you guys don’t have a Hanukkah mascot or something I’m supposed to know about, right?”

Puck chuckles. “No, dude. No Hanukkah mascot. It’d probably be something stupid, anyway, like a dancing menorah.”

“Armadillo,” Finn suggests. “I think I saw that on TV.”

“The Hanukkah Armadillo,” Puck muses. “I’m not sure that’s going to catch on, to be honest with you.”

 

“So, Friday and Saturday,” Puck greets Rachel without preamble when he walks into English. “You willing to take a list?”

“A list?”

“Yeah, Kurt’s taking a bunch of lists and cash for people–Finn, Carole, my mom, me. Anyway. I can’t exactly give him a list of stuff for him.”

“Oh! Oh, of course!” Rachel grins widely. “I would be more than willing to do so.”

“Awesome.” Puck sits down and unzips his backpack, rifling through it for a few moments before finding the envelope with the list and the cash in it. “It’s just three things, but there’s no way I could get at least two of those otherwise.”

“I am happy to help,” Rachel nods, accepting the envelope and then looking at Puck. “What stores?”

“You can look,” Puck nods at the envelope, because really, this conversation would already be hard enough to explain.

Rachel pulls out the list and skims it, then looks at Puck and smiles as she puts it back in the envelope, then puts the envelope in her bag. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” she agrees. “If he remarks upon anything else?”

“Text me. I’ll be at work both mornings but it shouldn’t be a problem to answer a text.”

Rachel nods again, and opens her mouth to speak, but then their teacher starts to drone on about the traditions of giving thanks through poetry. Puck deliberately stops paying attention about that, because he remembers that it’s not on a test or something he has to write a paper about.

 

Puck stares when he gets to the door during fourth period. There are tables scattered around the room, most of them with fabric or scissors or piled on them, and Kurt’s holding his head in his hands.

“Vests?” Puck hazards.

Finn nods. “Vests,” he repeats, his eyes wide and sort of terrified.

“What’s he trying to do?” Puck asks, quietly. “Are we all being drafted into sewing? ‘Cause I think that’s not going to work.”

“I don’t know what he wants,” Finn whispers. “I think it might be cutting.”

“That’s not as bad, at least,” Puck mutters. He looks around and everyone’s standing in clusters, eyeing Kurt. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he snorts. “It’s not like he’s going to cause anyone permanent damage or anything.”

“You’ve never seen him when he’s sewing, I guess,” Finn says, looking at Kurt askance. “Seriously, you haven’t.”

“Seriously, I’m pretty sure I can calm him the fuck down,” Puck smirks. “But probably not in front of everybody.”

“Then if he starts to freak out, _you_ can get him out of here,” Finn suggests in an undertone. “I’ll distract everyone else.”

Puck shakes his head and raises his voice. “Kurt?”

Kurt blinks and looks up. “Yes? Oh. Good.” He sort of _beams_ at everyone, in a rather odd, almost proprietary manner. “Everyone pair up. Surely if there are two people working you all can’t screw things up too badly.”

Finn looks absolutely freaked out, but he grabs Rachel by the arm. “Partner.”

Rachel giggles a little at the look on Finn’s face but falls silent when Kurt raises an eyebrow at her. Sam grabs Mercedes like a lifeline and there’s a tussle between Quinn and Santana over which one gets Brittany as a partner. “Tanny, you’ll be fine,” Brittany says patiently after a moment. “Go help Puck.” Puck looks startled and then realizes that Artie and Mike partnered up, and if _that’s_ not a disaster waiting to happen, Puck isn’t sure what would be.

Santana scowls at Brittany, then at Puck, but walks over to where Puck’s standing. “I hope you’re better at this than I am.”

“It’s like building shit, right?” Puck shrugs. “Measure twice, cut once?”

“Whatever.” Santana shrugs.

“Great!” Kurt’s voice is pitched high, a little thin, and Puck guesses he can understand why, since Sectionals is in less than two weeks. “Rachel, you and Finn use this one. Mike, Artie, this one,” and he tosses a labeled pattern at them before distributing the remainder. Unsurprisingly, the one that lands in front of Puck says “Puck.” Then Kurt clears his throat. “Any questions?”

Finn raises his hand. “Uh. This pattern says something about grain, but my fabric doesn’t have any grain. Just, like, cloth.”

Kurt sighs wearily. “Just let Rachel deal with that part, okay? Anyone in a pair that doesn’t know anything about grain?”

Mike and Artie raise their hands, almost sheepishly, and Kurt walks over, sliding their fabric around and then admonishing them to leave it in place when they cut. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah, how’d you know our sizes?” Artie asks.

“I have a secret stalker file,” Kurt says dryly. “I know where you were last night. And how much you paid for that tragic excuse of a sweater.” He smirks at the end of the sentence. “No, the same way I knew what sizes to order for the girls’ dresses.”

“Wait, is that why we had to do all of that measuring?” Finn asks. “‘Cause that’s actually sort of a relief. I just thought it was weird.”

Puck snorts and Kurt laughs. “Yes, Finn, that’s why. Now, please. Measure and cut?”

It’s probably the most unconventional glee meeting Puck can ever remember, but by the end of it, Kurt doesn’t look at all homicidal, and all the fabric is cut correctly. Puck can even gloat a little, because he and Santana finished before even Brittany and Quinn. It does occur to him that maybe he’s really embracing the gay for the day, since he’s given Finn advice on bath products and then totally whipped some fabric ass, but hey. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. Even if it involves Lush and fabric scissors.

 

Kurt walks into the choir room just after 2:45 on Tuesday afternoon, a slight spring in his step, to Puck’s way of thinking. Then again, they each have a single hour of class the next day and nothing else until Monday, even if they both have work and shopping in the interim. Come to think of it, shopping probably is a little like a job to Kurt, even if it’s fun. The whole combination, though; it’s enough to almost put a spring in Puck’s step, too.

“Hey, K,” Puck grins. “You’re early.”

“I can leave if you like,” Kurt teases, pointing back towards the door, and Puck shakes his head quickly. “No? All right then.” Kurt sits down next to Puck on the piano bench. “Can you leave early?”

Puck shrugs. “I don’t see why not.” He slides his arm around Kurt’s waist and tilts his head against Kurt’s.

“I thought we’d go get some coffee before we headed to Hannah’s performance.”

“Can we get some alcohol in that coffee, to dull the pain of watching?” Puck jokes.

“Be nice,” Kurt says mildly, but Puck notices he doesn’t necessarily argue with the idea. Puck slides his stuff into a pile and then loads it into his backpack.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to care if I leave now. I’m technically ahead of where Ms. P said I should be, anyway.” They stand up and head into the hallway. “Only one more hour of class until Monday morning, K.”

“Thank _god_. And then only about three weeks until winter break. I need that break like I need, I don’t know. Air.”

“I know what you mean,” Puck admits as they leave the building. “But dual enrollment’s only another two weeks. It makes thinking about the finals seem bearable.”

Kurt laughs. “I don’t know that I’d go that far.”

“Yeah, okay, probably not,” Puck concedes with a laugh of his own. “But damn, a break will be so nice. That week of afternoons off, too.”

“You have a plan for how to spend them?” Kurt asks archly as they climb into the Nav.

“Just an idea or two,” Puck smirks slowly. “I think you might like my ideas, though.”

“I suspect you’re correct.”

It takes a little longer than they expect to get coffee, first to find a parking space and then because one of Puck’s newer co-workers starts asking him a couple of questions about opening. When they finally get to Hannah’s school, it’s not really any earlier than if they’d left when the bell rang, and Puck’s relieved to see that they have, in fact, managed to miss the kindergarten and first grade performances.

Puck and Kurt slide into the back row, but on the end, and when the third graders walk up to the stage, Hannah still spots them and waves enthusiastically, which they return with much less vigor.

The performance isn’t bad, per se; the teachers obviously came up with the choreography, such as it is, and at least they just stuck new lyrics onto familiar tunes. Hannah’s grinning to beat the band, though, and Kurt nudges him halfway through the song. “Maybe she’ll join glee club, too,” he murmurs, and Puck laughs silently in agreement.

After the third graders all finish, they have to sit through two more performances, and Puck can feel his hand twitching a little as it rests on his thigh. He wants to touch Kurt, who’s sitting close beside him and willing to endure an elementary school program for Puck, for fuck’s sake. Kurt glances at him, and when their eyes meet, Puck can read the understanding in Kurt’s. They both sigh a little, and before too much longer, the performance is thankfully over.

“Do we need to take Hannah to your place?”

Puck shakes his head. “Nah, Mom said she’d still come get her later. We should probably say hello, though.”

“Of course,” Kurt says, amused. “I’d hate to think what would happen if we didn’t.” They wait for some of the crowd to dissipate before Kurt follows Puck up to where the third graders are still congregated.

“Noah!” Hannah flings herself into his arms. “You came! Wasn’t it great? It was so much fun!” She’s still beaming and then she whirls away from Puck and grabs Kurt. “Kurt! Was I awesome?”

Kurt nods solemnly. “You were. If I were the President, I would definitely pardon you.”

Hannah just keeps grinning, and then turns away. “Rebecca! Rebecca!” she calls, and another girl squirms her way over towards them. Puck raises his eyebrows a little, amused, as Hannah bounces on the balls of her feet. “This is Kurt! I told you he was going to be here!”

“Hi!” Rebecca grins at Kurt, who looks startled.

“Hello,” he manages after a moment, offering his hand and giving Puck a bewildered look. Puck shrugs. Who knows what Hannah’s said? Rebecca shakes Kurt’s hand and then Hannah pulls Rebecca away.

“Bye Noah! Bye Kurt! Thanks!” They scurry off, waving over their shoulders, and Puck shakes his head a little.

“That was a trip.”

“They’re certainly very enthusiastic,” Kurt agrees, and then looks at his phone. “The good news is–there should still be awhile before Finn is home.”

“Excellent,” Puck grins. “Let’s go.” He puts his hands in his pockets, because he was about to throw his arm around Kurt or take his hand, one, and it’s really hard to remember not to do that. The walk out to the Nav is sort of excruciating in that regard, actually, and he briefly wonders what would happen if he just did it anyway, but then he remembers what Kurt said a week before about people calling his house and being awful, and what if Puck makes more of that happen?

“Oh, thanks, by the way,” he says as he climbs in the Nav. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure your brother didn’t think of me staying at your place Thursday night.”

Kurt laughs. “No, he didn’t. But I figured it was better for the idea to come from him. Plausible deniability and everything. We need my dad in a good mood when I bring up Chicago.”

“When _are_ we gonna do that?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt sighs. “I have this feeling that it doesn’t matter how or when I bring it up, he’s going to react the same way. I just am not sure what that way is.” He purses his lips. “I also have to decide at what point I give up and remind him that I’m eighteen and I don’t technically have to have his permission.”

“Kurt...” Puck starts, then shrugs. “Look, I don’t want you and your dad pissed at each other. But you’re right and I think he’s having a lot of trouble with you _being_ eighteen and a senior. I mean, my mom is, she just expresses it in bizarre ways, and you and Burt are a hell of a lot closer than Mom and I have ever been, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Kurt agrees, somewhat sadly. “But I can’t change any of it. And I’ve really done my best to be as upfront with him as I thought he wanted to be. I’ve lied to him _once_ about where I am and if I’m with you, and that was after he accused me of lying.” Kurt scowls and he doesn’t have to voice anything further for Puck to know that he’s dwelling on that, again, because part of Kurt was really hurt when his dad did that, and Puck’s not sure how easy that is to fix. “I know he tries really hard to be okay with me being gay. He does. But I also know he’s still really uncomfortable with it and, god, Puck, it’s not _fair_ that Rachel gets a free pass to be upstairs with the door closed. If Finn came home with a box of condoms, Dad would probably give him a high five. But I’m not a ‘guy,’ somehow.”

The words just pour out of Kurt’s mouth as he drives, and Puck winces, because he’s not wanted to say anything, but he knows what Kurt’s talking about, and no, it’s not fair. Puck can’t even address most of what Kurt’s saying, partially ‘cause it really is between Kurt and Burt and partially ‘cause Puck can’t really remember much about having a dad around, but there is one thing he can talk about with authority. “Blue eyes,” Puck says firmly, reaching over the console and taking Kurt’s hand. “You are definitely a guy. A man. A dude. Whatever term you want to use. One that I happen to find incredibly sexy, as it happens.”

“But I know Dad would rather have a son that’s more... _normal_ ,” Kurt says bitterly.

“What’s normal? Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, but K, this town? This town is not the world. We’re gonna go to New York and I guarantee you that compared to some people there, we’re both going to look fucking normal.”

Kurt smiles slightly. “Thanks, baby,” he says quietly.

“All part of the service.” Puck grins a little and squeezes Kurt’s hand as they pull into the driveway. He releases Kurt’s hand so they can both climb out of the Nav and head inside, Kurt peeling off his coat just inside the house with a sigh of relief.

“You still need to work on your score later?”

“I should,” Puck concedes. “I want to mail it Friday morning. That should get it there by the first, even though technically as long as the app is in, I have a few weeks. But later.”

“Yes, later,” Kurt agrees, and a second after that, Kurt’s arms are around Puck’s neck, his lips pressing tightly to Puck’s lips, tongue already insistently prodding and demanding entrance. Puck opens his lips under the onslaught and wonders absently if they’re going to even make it up the stairs, with the way Kurt is kissing him.

As soon as he finishes the thought, though, Kurt’s pulling away and almost yanking him up the stairs, Kurt’s fingers already removing his scarf as they go, and the hidden mark reappears. Puck smirks a little and Kurt catches where he’s looking. “You can’t smirk every time you catch sight of it, baby.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not covering it up again until Friday morning,” Kurt says flatly.

“Oh.” Puck grins a little as they stumble into Kurt’s bedroom. “I guess you’re right, then.”

“Of course I am,” Kurt preens just a moment as he pulls off his cardigan and then the shirt he has underneath it. “Strip, Puck.”

Puck’s grin widens and he does just that, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling off the long-sleeve t-shirt he underneath it before sliding his pants down and onto the floor. “Like this?”

“Commando? Really?” Kurt raises an eyebrow, and Puck shrugs.

“It was a little warmer today. Thought I’d save us a little time.”

“Wish I’d known, though,” Kurt muses under his breath, and Puck makes a mental note to tell Kurt the next time he goes commando. Kurt slips out of his own pants and underwear and pulls Puck into another hard kiss, melting against him. Puck wraps his arms around Kurt, enjoying the feel of Kurt’s skin soft against his own, and runs his hands over Kurt’s back and down to rest on Kurt’s ass.

Kurt moves a little against Puck’s hands, deepening their kiss before pulling away and pushing lightly on Puck’s shoulders. Puck sits on the bed, then lies back when Kurt pushes again. When Kurt tugs on his hip a little and motions for him to roll over onto his stomach, Puck raises an eyebrow but does just that without arguing, figuring that Kurt has his reasons.

Kurt’s hands trail down Puck’s back slowly, then Kurt slides his fingers down, teasing Puck’s entrance lightly before moving to the back of Puck’s thighs. There’s a little shift of the bed creaking, and he’s really starting to wonder what’s going on.

Then his eyes go wide and he’s pretty sure he jumps, because there’s something warm and _wet_ teasing him where Kurt’s fingers just were, and it takes Puck a few seconds to realize that– _oh fuck that’s hot_ –it’s Kurt’s tongue.

“Fuck, K,” Puck gasps out, but he’s not going to complain. Kurt circles around his entrance a few times, and that alone is pretty exciting, but then Puck can feel Kurt’s tongue sliding just barely inside him. Puck suddenly doesn’t understand why anybody wouldn’t like this, because frankly, it’s even better than Kurt’s fingers, and that’s a pretty big statement right there.

It’s wet and warm and Puck doesn’t know if Kurt’s grossed out at all, because if he is, Puck can’t tell–it feels like he’s pretty damn enthusiastic from where Puck is. Then the wonderful feeling expands, farther inside Puck, and Puck’s groaning into the mattress, because _fuck_ , this is incredible and indescribable, Kurt’s tongue thrusting into him, coating him and turning him into a boneless lump, except for his cock, which is painfully hard as Puck rubs it against the sheets, rocking in place. Kurt flicks his tongue, somehow, still buried inside Puck’s ass, and Puck twitches, Kurt’s face resting on him and everywhere Kurt’s touching, the warmth just spreads.

Kurt’s hand comes up to rest on Puck, stroking his back and downwards, to his legs, all in one steady, firm stroke as he keeps working on Puck from the inside, and then Puck has a moment of imagining what Kurt must look like. The image is all Puck need to come, crying out and then just lying on the bed, spent, uncaring about the seeping wet spot underneath him. Kurt slowly moves, kissing up Puck’s spine before lying on his side, facing Puck. “Was... that okay?” Kurt finally asks, sounding almost unsure.

“Amazing,” Puck croaks out, turning his head and opening his eyes to look at Kurt. “Fuck, Kurt. That was... incredible.” Kurt still looks a little dubious, like maybe Puck’s just humoring him, and okay, yeah, they didn’t talk about it ahead of time, and maybe Puck would’ve taken a little longer in the shower or whatever, but it was awesome and Puck wants Kurt to understand that. “Seriously.” Puck leans over and kisses Kurt, and as Kurt’s tongue slides over his, Puck does have a brief moment of _oh my god, ew!_ but after another moment passes, he’s over it, and he knows what to do to convince Kurt that it was fantastic.

When he pulls back, Kurt looks at him, a little confused. “What?”

“Your turn,” Puck insists, nudging at Kurt and pushing himself up off the bed. He runs a hand over Kurt’s back, and he can tell Kurt’s about to protest, so Puck leans over and kisses him softly, until he can feel Kurt relax a little and start to comply. He finally slides onto his stomach and Puck grins triumphantly.

“You don’t–It’s–” Kurt tries half-heartedly.

“I know. Shush, blue eyes,” Puck laughs. He lets his hand rest on Kurt’s ass, squeezing it gently, and Kurt sort of nods and bites his lip, so Puck leans over to whisper in his ear. “Let me take care of you this time, K.”

Kurt nods after a moment and Puck presses a kiss to the back of his neck, then slowly moves his mouth down Kurt’s body, sometimes kissing, sometimes licking, until he reaches the puckered skin that’s his destination. Puck hesitates for a moment, his brain having a moment of dueling desires and thoughts, and then he forcibly ignores half of them, and flattens his tongue over Kurt’s entrance.

Kurt _shudders_ underneath him, letting out some unintelligible noise, and Puck presses his face against Kurt because holy shit who knew? As awesome as it was being on the other end, giving turns out to be pretty cool, too, and Puck lets the tip of his tongue push just slightly inside Kurt. Kurt shudders again, and Puck grins, twisting his tongue and then moving it just a little further inside.

It’s different, and part of Puck has to consciously ignore exactly what he’s doing, but it’s still _Kurt_ , falling apart underneath him, and Puck wants to make him feel good, so good. He twitches the tip of his tongue, twisting it around again, and Kurt’s hips buck, dragging his cock against the mattress, and then Puck hears a sound low in Kurt’s throat, and Puck grins.

He pulls back, just a little, then thrusts his tongue in, rubbing his cheek against Kurt’s skin and moving his tongue as Kurt comes, loudly, then seemingly melts into the mattress. Puck grins and kisses his way back up Kurt’s back, sliding to the side and capturing Kurt’s lips in a slow kiss that Kurt deepens after a moment.

“God,” Kurt breathes after a moment. “God, baby.”

Puck chuckles, a low, satisfied sound, and kisses Kurt’s nose. “I know.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Kurt starts, and then stops, flushing a little. “But.”

“Yeah.” Puck grins, and Kurt matches it after just a moment.

“Shower?” Kurt suggests after another moment, and Puck nods enthusiastically, following Kurt out of the bed and into the bathroom.

Puck leans against the wall of the shower, watching Kurt soak himself before stepping slightly to the side so Puck can do the same. Puck closes his eyes and lets the water beat on his face, and then he feels Kurt’s hand sliding down his chest, and he grins, moving his head and shaking the water off before leaning forward and kissing Kurt in a deliberately chaste way. It’s pretty funny, actually, considering where their tongues have been and the fact that they’re in the shower together, naked, but Kurt doesn’t let it stay chaste for long, his tongue insistent on Puck’s lips, and Puck parts them, running his hand through Kurt’s wet hair.

When Kurt’s finger presses against Puck. the water helping it slide inside a fraction of an inch, Puck knows he makes some kind of sound straight into Kurt’s mouth, pushing against Kurt’s finger. He can feel Kurt grin against him before pulling away, scanning the assorted bath products before picking up one bottle and squirting it onto his fingers, which immediately find their way back to Puck’s ass.

“What is that?” Puck can’t help but ask, even as he’s trying to take Kurt’s two fingers deeper inside him.

“Conditioner,” Kurt replies, tone amused. “You’re going to smell like strawberries.”

“Mmm. Like you do,” Puck nods, bracing himself against the wall of the shower. Kurt’s fingers twitch a little and he twists them inside Puck, making Puck bite down on his lip. “Fuck, K,” he gasps out after another moment.

“If you like,” Kurt murmurs, a laugh in his voice, and Puck smells more strawberries and then Kurt’s sliding his hands on Puck’s hips, tugging him out from the wall a little. Puck bends his knees a little and moves as Kurt positions him, sighing a little when Kurt finally positions himself behind Puck and slowly slides inside. “Good, baby?”

“Yeah,” Puck sighs again, closing his eyes and concentrating on the feel of Kurt inside him. “So good.”

“You feel so amazing,” Kurt continues, voice low. “So hot and tight. Love feeling you around me, Puck.” Kurt’s hand snakes around Puck’s waist, wrapping around Puck’s erection and sliding down it slowly. He moves carefully in and out of Puck, and Puck clenches around Kurt as he slides fully inside, Kurt’s balls heavy against Puck’s skin.

“Please,” Puck begs, body taunt. “Faster.” Kurt hums a little and then does go faster, thrusting hard into Puck. Puck wants to rock back, to try to take even more of Kurt inside him, but he’s held in place by the shower and Kurt’s firm grip on both his cock and his hips.

Kurt leans forward, pressing his lips against Puck’s back and murmuring against his skin, sounds that might be words if Puck could make them out, but he can’t and the sound of Kurt’s voice is really enough for him to cry out as Kurt slams into him. He spares a thought that they really should have tried this in the shower before now, then tightens around Kurt. Kurt’s hand speeds up on his cock and Puck knows he’s incredibly close to coming, both of them are, and Puck squeezes down hard on Kurt’s cock. Kurt comes with a yell, emptying inside Puck, and Puck follows him, holding himself up against the wall and trying not to collapse. After thirty seconds or so, though, Puck decides that’s a lost cause and slides down the wall to sit on the bottom of the tub, Kurt following him a moment later. “Why haven’t we done that before?” Kurt asks, and Puck grins.

“I was wondering the same thing, blue eyes.” Puck cups Kurt’s cheek in his hand and kisses him deeply. “Clean-up’s easy, too,” he adds, laughing.

Kurt grins. “I was noticing that.”

They sit there for a few more minutes, until the water slowly grows cold, and then Puck reluctantly stands, offering a hand to Kurt as they shut off the water and climb out. “I never realized showers could be so fun,” Puck smirks as he grabs a towel.

“We’re so practical,” Kurt agrees. “Entertainment and hygiene, all at once.” Kurt pulls on a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans and shoves his feet into the furry slippers that he insists are essential for keeping his feet warm, and Puck can’t help stopping him before they even get out the door to press Kurt against the wall and kiss him. Kurt pulls away, rolling his eyes but grinning. “Put your own shirt on, baby. Chinese sound good?”

“Chinese sounds awesome.” Puck shrugs on his shirt and follows Kurt down the stairs into the kitchen. “You know what I like.”

“I do,” Kurt agrees, pulling out the menu and the house phone. They decide to eat in the living room, Kurt sitting between Puck’s legs and leaning against him while Puck leans on the sofa behind him. It’s probably a little ridiculous and more than a little bit messy, but both of them seem to need the close contact, and when they finish eating and Puck goes over to the piano, Kurt sits behind the bench, one hand resting against Puck.

Puck’s finally satisfied around eight-thirty, and they’re watching some random show on television when the rest of the Hudmels slowly trickle in and then upstairs, and eventually Puck loses track of what’s on the television, resting against Kurt and periodically kissing him. It’s late, though, when Kurt shakes him, and Puck’s not sure if he was asleep or just really comfortable.

“Hey,” Kurt says softly. “I should probably take you home.” Kurt pauses after he says that. “Actually, are you awake enough to drive?”

Puck sits up and furrows his forehead. “Yeah. Why? You okay?”

“I’m fine. But I don’t really need the Nav in the morning,” Kurt explains. “Why don’t you take it? Just come over here for lunch after you’re off, and then we’ll go get Mike before two.”

Puck just stares at Kurt. “You want me to just... drive it. Without you.”

“Yesss, that’s what I said,” Kurt confirms, nodding.

“Okay,” Puck shrugs, and he knows what Finn said about him driving the Nav and other people finding out is even more true given that Kurt’s not even going to be with him.

Kurt still walks out to the Nav with him, which is something of a sacrifice for Kurt, considering how cold it is, and then he hands the keys over, pressing his lips to Puck’s in a soft kiss. “Let me know you made him home okay. I’ll see you around noon.”

“Yeah, I will,” Puck promises, then swings into the Nav as Kurt walks back into the house with a wave of his hand. Puck appreciates the gesture more than he can put words to, because it’s getting really cold in the mornings, maybe even a chance of snow that night, and to _not_ have to walk in the cold is awesome. He carefully parks the Nav in front of his building and hurries up the stairs, stopping to text Kurt once he’s in his room and in bed.

 _Made it home in bed. Thx K. xx_

 _Not a problem. Sweet dreams, baby. xx_

Puck grins and shuts off his lamp, setting his phone next to his head so the alarm will rouse him. Yeah, he’ll have sweet dreams.

Driving to work means he was able to set his alarm ten minutes later, and he manages to find a parking spot close to the Starbucks entrance, so really, Puck’s first day of Thanksgiving break starts out pretty damn well, all things considered.

He has to laugh at the text he gets from Kurt around 8:30.

 _Regretting lack of escape vehicle as Finn & I have been put to work chopping for Carole_

A few moments later, before he can respond, a second text comes through.

 _Was going to fix lunch here but can you pick up burgers or something?_

Puck laughs and hits reply.

 _Carole’s on the rampage? Will do. Thx again K. xx_

 _Thank /you/ xx_

Puck grins and goes back to work with a smile on his face. It’s not too busy of a morning, and he changes clothes before dropping by Kewpee on the way to Kurt’s. He’s on his way out, food in hand, when he literally runs into Rachel.

“Oh, hello, Noah!” She beams at him. “Getting some lunch?”

“Yeah, gotta eat before class.”

“Oh, that’s right, you still have your dual enrollment classes today.”

“One of ‘em, anyway.” Rachel falls into steps with him, even though she’d been going _into_ the store. “Picking up Mike before that, since Tina’s still gone.”

“Of course.” Rachel stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “Noah? Where’s Kurt?”

Puck smirks. “At his house, waiting on his lunch.”

“But...” She gestures at the Nav parked in front of her.

“I had to work this morning, Kurt just had to chop vegetables or something.” Puck shrugs and tries hard to maintain a blank face, like this is perfectly rational behavior. Which apparently it is, in Kurt’s mind, and to an extent, in Puck’s, but no one else is going to think it is.

“He lets you _drive_ his baby?”

Puck chuckles, not answering immediately, because there are some things he doesn’t need to share with Rachel. “Yeah, he lets me drive the Nav,” he finally answers her. “I drove us back from Cincinnati after that college fair, whatever.” He shrugs and unlocks the doors. “And, yeah, we both know it’d be a dead giveaway if anyone realized it.”

“Wow.” Rachel looks sort of speechless. “Well, have a happy Thanksgiving, Noah! I’ll see you Saturday at rehearsal.”

“See you,” Puck repeats, nodding as he climbs into the Nav and steers towards Kurt’s house. He’s still a little amused when he gets there, grinning as Kurt opens the door for him.

“What’s funny?”

“Ran into Rachel after I got the food,” Puck shrugs and kisses Kurt as soon as Kurt closes the door and Puck drops one of the bags on the table in the hall.

“Oh.” Kurt smiles and Puck returns it, following him into the kitchen, where most of the table is covered in various bowls and dishes. Kurt steps to the other end where he’s cleared a little place.

“Hello, Noah,” Carole’s voice calls out from inside the refrigerator.

“Hey, Mrs. H.”

“When are you just going to give in and call me Carole?”

“Uh.” Puck shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“How about Sunday? That gives you a few days to get ready,” she laughs, reemerging from the refrigerator with some kind of dairy product clutched triumphantly in her hand.

“Okay?” Puck takes his burger from Kurt and unwraps it, taking a bite before Carole can require further conversation.

“Oh, I forgot to mention this to you, Kurt. Next Friday, after they have that quarterfinal, since all of you have Sectionals the next day, we’re hosting a sleepover. All twelve of you,” Carole clarifies. “I’ll feed you a nice big breakfast and of course it’ll make more sense to take fewer vehicles over to the school to catch the bus.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow but smiles. “That sounds great, Carole. We’ll probably need food for after the game, too, though. Just plan on everyone eating a second dinner.”

“Oh, I know!” Carole agrees. “I was trying to decide between cooking something or ordering pizzas.”

“Make some of that awesome soup you had a few weeks ago,” Puck suggests, finishing a bite. “The one with the beef and carrots and the grain stuff.”

“Oh, the beef and barley? That’s a good idea, Noah. I could make a huge pot of that, get lots of bread, and maybe some fruit or something to round it out.” Carole smiles happily.

“We should buy a cookbook just of soup,” Kurt remarks. “For next winter.”

“Lizard,” Puck grins, pressing his knee to Kurt’s leg.

“I can’t help it,” Kurt replies airily. “I was born this way.”

All three of them laugh, and then Carole excuses herself to go hunt for table linens, or something like that. Kurt just shrugs helplessly at Puck’s look of confusion. “I don’t know. As long as I don’t have to iron them.”

They do escape before Carole tries to rope them into ironing. Kurt heads upstairs before they leave, looking at Puck apologetically. “Sorry, I guess I do have to cover it up for an hour or so, on the off chance that Mike notices it.”

Puck shrugs as Kurt picks out a scarf and ties it on. “You probably need a scarf out there, anyway, K.” It had snowed, just a little, overnight, but the wind was what would really cut through Kurt. “Besides.” He tugs on the scarf a little, pulling Kurt towards him, and kisses just below Kurt’s ear. “You know I like the scarves,” he finishes in a whisper.

“That is true.” Kurt smiles brilliantly and then they head down the stairs, over to Mike’s house, and then to the special joy of a two o’clock class on the day before Thanksgiving. Given their math professor’s predilection for letting them out early on Fridays, Puck is surprised that they have class at all, but the guy lectures for the full fifty-five minutes to a half-full classroom. Most of the McKinley kids didn’t bother to show, and Puck’s starting to think it was dumb that he did when the professor gives them one of the problems that will be on their final–along with tips and hints on solving it.

Considering there are only ten problems on the final, Puck thinks that this is probably worth the hour of his time, after all.

Kurt drops off Mike and then heads back to Puck’s apartment, sighing a little. “Well, the good news is, Dad thought your idea of staying open later tonight, plus being open in the morning, was a good one. The bad news is, he didn’t feel like he could ask any of the other guys, so it’s all on me.” He shrugs. “I’ll come get you at two tomorrow, anyway,” he adds, reaching across and squeezing Puck’s hand.

“Definitely,” Puck agrees. “Be good, blue eyes.”

Kurt’s dimples appear as he responds. “I’m always good, baby.”

Puck climbs the stairs after Kurt drives away, headed for Burt’s shop, hands in his pockets, thinking deeply. He’s not sure where he’s supposed to end up sleeping when he stays at the Hudmel house the next night; he knows where he’d _like_ to sleep, but figures the chances of that happening are pretty slim. Hell, to be honest, he’s surprised that he’s being allowed to stay at all, and figures it’s because Carole presented it as being about Finn’s friend Noah, not Kurt’s boyfriend Puck.

Which sucks, but at least he doesn’t have to walk to work, and he can say good night instead of good bye, at least for a night.

No one’s home when he unlocks the door, and he remembers that his mom put Hannah in a one-day day camp or something, so she could still work today and take Friday off. Puck mentally shrugs and turns the volume on his computer all the way up while he goes ahead and packs a bag to take to work the next day: clothes for Thanksgiving dinner, since Rina’s already admonished him to ‘dress nicely’; clothes for after dinner and sleeping; clothes for work again. Plus whatever other shit he might need. That done, he zips up the duffel bag and tosses it against the wall near his bedroom door.

Hannah and his mom get home kind of late, and they have a frozen pizza for dinner while they watch some cheesy Thanksgiving specials which are painful to watch. Puck’s relieved when his phone rings and provides an opportunity to escape to his room.

“Hey,” he says with a smile, closing the door behind him. “Home at last?”

“Yes,” Kurt answers with a sigh. “Dad’s thrilled though. We were the only shop in town open past 5:30. We finally had to start taking numbers for people who will come back in the morning!”

“Cool?” Puck shrugs and lies down on his bed. “I bet your dad doesn’t pay you overtime, though.”

“No, but he probably will give more cash to take this weekend.” Puck can almost hear Kurt shrug. “I mean, he pays me less officially, but I think it comes out in the end.”

“Speaking of your dad, think there’s any chance I get to sleep in _your_ bed tomorrow night?” Puck grins at the thought.

Kurt laughs for a second. “Oh, I wish. Somehow I have the feeling that the chance is slim to none, though,” he says ruefully. “I don’t even know if you’re banished to the couch downstairs again or not. Which really pisses Finn off. I’m sure he mentioned it to Carole.”

“Yeah, I dunno.” Puck remembers hearing about how awesome Burt Hummel was, from things people said and stuff he overheard, especially sophomore year. Supportive of Kurt and everything. Puck has a theory, though, and it’s not a particularly great one, so he doesn’t share it with Kurt. “Anyway, Mom and Hannah are all excited about tomorrow,” he changes the subject.

“Oh, good. I think Finn’s a little worried that they’ll eat all of the sweet potato casserole, but having seen the size of Carole’s casserole dish? I don’t think he needs to worry.”

“The kind with the marshmallows? I don’t think Mom’d even eat it to begin with.” Puck shakes his head and decides to undress and climb into bed. “As long as there’s plenty of cranberry sauce, I’m fine. And I made Mom buy five cans, just in case.”

“Five? One each for you, me, and Finn, and two to split for the rest of them?” Kurt jokes.

“Yeah, except I get two and you and Finn have to split one.”

“See if I leave you much stuffing, then.”

“Oh, that’s your thing, huh?” Puck grins. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Mmmhmm. I’m going to steal it all, while you’re distracted with the cranberry sauce,” Kurt confirms.

“Oh, it might take more than that to distract me.”

“I’m sure I can find an appropriate distraction.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, blue eyes.”

“I look forward to it.”

“I thought you might.” Puck grins at the phone and slides into bed.

“Are you going to bed?”

“Mmm. Soon,” Puck acknowledges. “Seems like a good way to fall asleep.”

“What does?”

“Listening to you.” Puck turns out his light and closes his eyes.

“Maybe I should go to bed, too, then,” Kurt says quietly. Puck can hear Kurt moving around a bit. “And just for the record, baby?”

“Yeah?”

“If you were to find your way in here tomorrow night–well, we’re going to be up before anyone else.”

Puck licks his lips and grins in the darkness. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do. Sweet dreams?”

“Always. Be good.”

“I’m always good.”

Puck smiles to himself and sets down his phone. So far his break is looking pretty good.

 

Business is slow on Thanksgiving morning until around nine, at which point some road race ends and a bunch of old guys in shorts that are way too short descend on the store, ordering venti everything and generally keeping Puck busy for over an hour. It gets slower again after that until around one, when a steady stream of flour-dusted cooks comes in, also ordering venti size. Puck’s relieved when it’s two and he ducks into the bathroom to change before heading outside into the cold.

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

“It is now,” Puck grins. “Hannah and Mom make it over already?”

“Yes, Hannah’s watching football with my dad and Finn, and Rina’s in the kitchen with Carole. Frankly, getting in the way, but she wasn’t trying to.”

“And where were you?”

“Working on the apple pie, because I don’t trust anyone else to make it,” Kurt replies, as if that should have been obvious, and it probably should have been.

When they get to the Hudmel house, though, Rina’s sitting uncomfortably on the couch next to Hannah, looking at the football game with a little disdain. The Lions are playing the Packers, and Puck pauses to wrinkle his nose at the score, the Lions up by 3. “Hey, Mom. Hey, squirt.” He drops a noisy kiss on Hannah’s head before bumping fists with Finn.

“How was work, dude?” Finn asks, only half looking away from the TV.

“Scary,” Puck responds. “Too many old farts in shorts.”

“Uh, ew?”

“I know, right?” Puck shrugs and then nods at Burt, who nods back.

“Hey, Noah,” Carole calls, popping her head around the doorway.

“Hey, Mrs. H,” Puck says with a smile, and then she disappears again. Kurt sits down on the floor and raises an eyebrow, but Puck shakes his head slightly. “Think I’m going to grab a pop. Anybody want anything?”

“Yeah, kid, if you don’t mind grabbing me a beer,” Burt tosses back over the sofa.

“Sure.”

“Noah, you shouldn’t be so forward in someone else’s home,” Rina chides. “We’re guests.”

“You’re a guest,” Finn says, thoughtfully. “Hannah’s a guest. Puck’s not a guest.”

“Yeah, they even make me get my own plate sometimes, Mom,” Puck mock-gripes, headed for the doorway.

“Oh, well. All right,” Rina shrugs, looking confused, and Puck slips into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes, grabbing himself a pop plus Burt’s beer, and another pop for Kurt, just in case, before returning to the living room.

“Here you go,” he offers the beer to Burt.

“Thanks. You wanna sit down and watch the game, son?” Burt asks.

Rina looks stricken and recoils a little, but doesn’t say anything, and Puck decides to ignore her in the interest of a peaceful Thanksgiving. He nods a little and sits next to Kurt on the floor, handing him the extra can of pop.

“Thanks,” Kurt smiles.

“Hey, where’s mine?” Finn mock-whines.

“Didn’t ask, dude,” Puck points out, hoping that Finn won’t notice that Kurt didn’t ask either.

“It’s ‘cause you don’t love me,” Finn moans dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead, and starting to slip off the sofa in a death throe.

“It is,” Kurt breaks in, calmly. “It’s because you’re too tall. We don’t have any extra-tall cans of pop right now.”

“That’s...um, prejudice, is what that is!” Finn exclaims. “Or maybe it’s tall-ism.”

“It totally is,” Puck nods. “We just can’t serve you because you’re tall.”

Rina is watching the three of them, sort of fascinated, and Hannah looks like she’s about to burst into giggles, but Burt continues to ignore them, probably because he’s used to it. Puck slides an arm around Kurt’s waist and leans them against the side of the sofa. Kurt smiles and leans his head on Puck’s shoulder.

“How long until dinner, anyway?” Finn asks, forgetting he’s being melodramatic in the name of identifying the next food source.

“An hour and a half,” is Kurt’s response. “I think, anyway.”

“That’s a reeeeaaaally long time.”

“There’s Chex mix in the kitchen,” Kurt admits with a sigh, and Puck grins.

“Can I have some, K?”

“Of course. Finn, go get it please?”

“Why do I always have to get the Chex mix?”

“Because I’m comfortable right here and if Puck moves, I won’t be any more,” Kurt sniffs. “Also, because I made it, plus the apple pie.”

“Fine,” Finn grumbles. “I’ll get it, but I’m going to sit in the kitchen and pick out all the cashews first. So there.”

“Oh, no, how will we survive?” Puck gasps out.

“Uh, without nuts, I guess,” Finn suggests, then snickers.

Puck bursts out laughing, and Kurt giggles beside him. Burt turns around on the sofa and levels a look at Finn, then slowly raises an eyebrow, which makes him look remarkably like Kurt, to Puck’s way of thinking.

Finn just grins. “Cashews. Without cashews.”

“Go get the Chex mix, little brother, before I demand payment in the form of your slice of apple pie.”

“Uncool, dude,” Finn responds, with a glower, before rushing out to get the Chex mix.

“It’s the only thing that motivates you,” Kurt calls after him, grinning.

“You boys,” Burt sighs, shaking his head. “Never would have thought it.”

“I would never guess that that hadn’t always been brothers,” Rina says, amused.

“Nobody would,” Puck agrees. “Munsters.”

“Huh?” Burt asks.

“Eddie Munster, Herman Munster,” Kurt explains. “From the tv show.”

“Uh huh,” Burt says, slowly. “So you’re...”

“Eddie. Obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously. And Finn’s Herman. Heh, that’s funny,” Burt snorts. “Where’d you guys come up with that one?”

“Coach Sylvester, actually. I think she meant it as an insult, but I thought it was funny.” Kurt shrugs.

“It’s pretty handy, too,” Puck adds. “‘Finn and Kurt’ takes longer to say. So, Munsters.”

“Alright. Munsters, then,” Burt agrees.

“Dude, where’s the Chex mix?” Puck yells after another moment. “You said you were stealing the cashews, not the entire bowl.”

“Sorry!” Finn calls, loping into the living room with the bowl of Chex mix. “Mom needed me to tall something down for her.”

“Thanks,” Puck grabs a handful gratefully. “I didn’t actually get a break today.”

“Ugh, that sucks, dude.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Technically they gave me a break before 9 am, so I guess not.” Puck shrugs and then turns to look at the television, where Green Bay is running down the field after a punt, and most of the conversation stops to see how far the guy will take it.

When he makes a touchdown, Burt jumps out of his seat with a whoop. “Yes!”

“Good,” Puck nods at the screen. “Stupid Lions.”

“That was a _sweet_ return!” Finn says.

“So do you just hate any team that’s named after a cat?” Kurt asks Puck, bemused.

“Well, yeah, it’s kind of dumb to name a team after an animal that doesn’t even live on this _continent_.”

“So Colts and Bears are okay, Lions and Bengals aren’t?” Kurt shrugs. “Makes as much sense as anything.”

“I told you, the Bears are the best.”

“Da Bears,” Finn says, solemnly.

“Hey, the Bears killed the Browns in pre-season,” Puck feels obliged to point out.

“Regular season play’s been solid for both teams,” Finn points out.

“Who’s playing in the Super Bowl?” Hannah pipes up.

“That’s not decided until January,” Puck explains. “Post-season play. The Packers won this past season.” He inclines his head towards the tv.

“One of the bosses as work is a big Green Bay fan,” Rina adds. “He bought all of us those cheesehead hat things.”

“Get any pictures of you in it?” Puck asks with grin.

“Yeah, that’d be cool!”

“No, you two. My own children,” Rina sighs dramatically.

Burt pats Rina on the arm sympathetically. “Kids are such a joy.”

“They keep us humble,” Rina agrees, grumbling slightly but also smiling.

“Humble’s one word for it,” Burt says, with a wink at Kurt.

“Da-ad,” Kurt groans a little.

“What?” Burt exclaims, faux-defensiveness in his tone. “I was just gonna say that being a dad gives my life meaning.”

Puck can’t help but tighten his arm a little around Kurt, and Kurt squeezes his leg gently as he responds to Burt. “I’m sure that that is _exactly_ what you were going to say, Dad,” he says, tone full of skepticism.

“Eh, I was gonna say _something_ like that, anyway,” Burt says, smiling.

“Of course you were,” Kurt nods. “I thought it was more like ‘kids give you grey hair’ or ‘kids make you lose your hair.’”

“Also that.”

“Are you guys seriously gonna eat all that Chex mix?” Finn says, suddenly.

“Dunno.” Puck makes a big show of looking at the bowl. “What do you think, K? Think we could polish all of it off?”

“It’s a double batch, so... probably,” Kurt grins. “Why, Finn? Did you need some?”

“Yes. Please,” Finn says, with exaggerated politeness.

“So polite,” Kurt nearly coos, and Puck passes the bowl towards Finn.

“You work tomorrow?” Puck asks Finn.

“Yeah, but not super early,” Finn answers. “I go in after the rush to restock.”

“Drop by and get some coffee. It’s either going to be slammed or boring as hell tomorrow, I can’t decide which.”

“Nothing says Black Friday like a visit to the trauma center or the emergency room,” Kurt says lightly.

“Yeah, I’ll come by a little early,” Finn says. “If it’s crazy, I’ll grab my coffee and go. If not, I’ll hang out for a few minutes.”

“Cool.”

“Oh, speaking of Black Friday,” Rina says, “Kurt, it’s just so sweet of you to offer to do shopping for so many people. Let me give that to you before I forget.” She leans over and rummages in her purse before handing Kurt an envelope.

“It’s really no trouble,” Kurt insists. “I think I’m up to four lists now. Dad, you going to give me a list?”

“I might have a list with a few things on it,” Burt says, peering over the sofa toward the kitchen. “Just don’t let Carole know.”

“I am the soul of discretion,” Kurt promises, then frowns. “Wait a second. There’s a problem with all of this.”

“What’s the problem?” Burt asks.

“If I have all these lists, you’re all going to be pleased to have finished your holiday shopping... except _I_ won’t have any gifts purchased for _me_.”

“I already bought your present,” Finn says, and everyone looks at him. “What? I did!”

“You have to give Rachel some space tomorrow,” Puck says smugly.

“I do?” Kurt blinks. “You gave Rachel a list?”

“I did.” Puck smirks.

“I didn’t,” Finn adds.

“So, Kurt is doing _everybody’s_ shopping tomorrow?” Burt asks.

“And Saturday. I get two days to complete all of it,” Kurt adds quickly. “It’s a game. The only game involving math that I enjoy.”

“Well, uh,” Burt stumbles for the right words. “You, uh, have fun with that, then.”

“I will.” Kurt shrugs and grabs another handful of Chex mix from the bowl that’s nearly out of reach now.

Carole steps into the room with a sigh of relief, then. “I have twenty minutes before I have to do anything else. Then I’m going to need everyone’s help.” She looks at Burt when she says “everyone,” rather pointedly.

“Absolutely,” Burt replies, quickly.

“Great.” Carole perches on the arm of the recliner next to Burt, and Puck thinks that she’s probably even less interested in the football game than his mom, but everyone more or less watches the game, occasionally commenting on the plays, until the timer goes off and Carole stands back up, gazing around the room at all of the boys until everyone stands up. She smiles at Rina and Hannah. “No, no, you’re our guests.” Rina gets a weird look on her face again, probably because Puck’s occupying that weird space between guest and family, but doesn’t argue.

A bunch of casserole-shifting and a huge pan of gravy later, all the food is on the dining room table and everyone assembles around it.

“I think we should all go around the table and say something we’re thankful for this year,” Burt says, looking a little embarrassed by his own request.

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Carole smiles at Burt as she speaks. “Would you like me to start?”

“Yeah, honey, that would be great.”

“Well, then. I am so thankful for my boys–all of them.” She makes eye contact with Burt, then Finn and Kurt, and then lastly with Puck before she turns to Rina on her right.

“I’m thankful for our continued health and, well, survival,” Rina laughs ruefully. “Hannah?”

“I’m really thankful for all my friends. Like Rebecca, and Stevie.” Kurt cuts his eyes over at Puck and smirks a little, Puck shaking his head.

Finn screws up his face in thought before speaking. “I’m thankful for having some kind of idea where I’m gonna be next year!” he finally says, but when Burt, Carole, and Rina look to Puck, Puck can hear Finn whisper “and boobs.”

Puck clears his throat at that, and also to stall for a time a little, because he wishes he’d had some warning for this assignment. “I, um. I’m thankful for just about everything?” he tries, not really wanting to enumerate some things. “Just, you know. Having an idea of where I’m going.”

Kurt smiles and squeezes his hand under the table. “I’m incredibly grateful to have all of you here.”

“And I’m thankful that after this summer, I’ll have some extra alone time with my beautiful wife,” Burt jokes. “Really, though, I’m glad for all of us to be here together as a family right now, whatever else comes next.”

“Can we eat now, Dad? Before my brother dies of longing down there?”

Finn looks at Burt with sad, hound dog eyes. “I’m feeling faint.”

“He does look sadly malnourished.” Puck barely manages to get the sentence out with a straight face.

“Losing...strength...” Finn gasps.

“Oh, you’ll survive, Finn,” Carole shakes her head fondly. “Weren’t you the one ‘sampling’ the turkey just a few moments ago?”

“I had to make sure it was done, Mom,” Finn protests. “Because of, like, _safety_. Salmonella or whatever.”

“Such a humanitarian,” Kurt sniffs.

“I’m very brave.”

“Just go on and eat, boys,” Burt snorts.

“Mine!” Kurt says cheerily, reaching for the serving spoon on the stuffing, which did in fact end up right in front of Kurt’s plate.

Puck pushes the mashed potatoes towards Hannah and reaches for the cranberry sauce at the same time, exchanging a grin with Kurt.

“I need those sweet potatoes down here,” Finn calls.

“They’re coming, sweetie,” Carole replies, hefting the casserole dish and passing it to him. “Rina? What’s your favorite?”

“Green bean casserole,” Rina says with a smile, accepting a large helping on her plate.

“White meat, Dad, not dark,” Kurt chides, without even looking up from filling his own plate.

“It’s Thanksgiving,” Burt protests. “You can fuss at me tomorrow. Today, I’m eating.”

“You’ll eat a turkey sandwich for breakfast and lunch while I’m not here. I know you, Dad.”

“If you don’t see me, it didn’t happen.”

“Well, that’s an interesting bargain,” Kurt smiles sweetly and his voice is light, but there’s an undercurrent in his voice, and Puck sets his fork down and takes a drink with his left so he can squeeze Kurt’s thigh gently.

“Can you pass me the mashed potatoes?” Puck interjects. “I think they ended up next to you, Mrs. H.”

“Of course, sweetie,” Carole grins at him and winks a little as she hands them over. “Don’t forget about the Jell-O salad, everyone.”

“Yeah, pass me that,” Finn says, already reaching for it.

“What’s in it?” Hannah asks, before Rina can shush her.

“Oh, pineapple, Jell-O, some marshmallows,” Carole lists. “If you want to just try a tiny bit, that’s fine.”

“It’s really good, Hannah,” Finn says. “It takes like Hawaii.”

“Okay,” Hannah shrugs, letting Finn dish her out a small amount.

“So Hannah,” Burt begins. “Tell me how school’s going this year. You’re taking your driver’s exam this next summer, right?”

Hannah giggles, and Puck grins at her. “No,” she answers through her laughter. “I still have to pass all my times tables!”

“Times table?” Burt gasps. “They’re still making you kids learn those? It’s not all computers now?”

“We can’t even use a calculator!” Hannah exclaims. “Noah has to help me with my math sometimes. It’s this hard textbook from some other country.”

“Where from? They importing them from Mexico now?” Burt laughs a little.

“Singapore,” Puck supplies. “I guess maybe they think the stereotype’s really just ‘cause of their textbooks.”

Burt nods. “You as good at math as your brother here?” He gestures at Puck with a fork laden with mashed potato-covered turkey.

“Nuh-uh,” Hannah says. “But it’s all right. It’s better than social studies.”

“You’re third grade, right?” Burt asks, and waits for Hannah’s answer nod. “That still all about Ohio or they doing something else now?”

“Mostly Ohio. Did you know we were part of Connecticut once?”

“Probably I knew it once, but not anymore until you just now told me,” Burt confesses.

“Isn’t that _weird_? I think it’s so weird.” Hannah shakes her head and finally takes a bite of the Jell-O salad. “Hey! This _is_ really good.”

“Told you,” Finn says. “Geez, little sisters don’t believe anything you tell them, do they, Puck? I’m glad I only have a brother.” He makes a face at Hannah.

Hannah giggles as Puck shakes his head. “Nope. Always doubting me. It’s tragic.”

“She believes _me_ ,” Kurt says loftily. “Isn’t that right, Hannah?”

“Yup.” She smirks in an all-too-familiar way at Puck. “Kurt’s smart.”

“See? Tell Finn he should listen to me,” Kurt stage whispers conspiratorially.

“I listen to you all the time,” Finn insists. “You’re full of good advice. Puck’s full of good advice, too. Shocking, but true.”

“Then please, please, don’t take the red and white plaid flannel shirt out of your closet ever again, except to do lawn work.” Kurt grins, biting back a laugh.

“Puck likes it. Should I listen to you or Puck on this one?”

“Kurt,” Puck answers with a snort. “Are you kidding?”

“I’d return your Christmas present if it weren’t so confusing to return things that you order online,” Finn say to Kurt, glowering a little.

“What? I didn’t suggest you burn it or even get rid of it. I merely gave you advice on where to wear it.”

“You just wish you looked that good in flannel.”

“Yes, it’s a lifelong wish of mine,” Kurt deadpans.

“You should try being taller,” Finn suggests. “It really offsets the plaid, I hear.”

“I’ll try being taller when you try eating fewer meals.”

“Are you trying to say I’m fat?” Finn pats his abdomen. “I’m in excellent shape.”

“No, I’m trying to say that being taller is a biological impossibility. Like you eating less.”

“I could eat less if I wanted to. I just don’t want to.”

“He’d waste away,” Puck nods. “It’d be sad. Scarecrow Finn, we’d call him.”

“The crows would never come back,” Finn shakes his head sadly. “Ever.” Finn looks momentarily thoughtful. “Hey, that would make a great series of pictures for Facebook!”

“No,” Kurt says, emphatically. “No more family photos with inanimate objects.”

“Then how about I keep eating, you can go on being all teensy and stuff, and I’ll just wear the red and white plaid shirt, like, whenever,” Finn says. “It’s the status crow.”

“My eyes,” Kurt laments. “And I believe you’re looking for the term status quo.”

Puck has to stop eating for a moment to laugh at the idea of the ‘status crow,’ and his mom doesn’t look like she’s in much better shape.

“Dude, what does a ‘quo’ have to do with a scarecrow?” Finn asks, looking at Kurt like Kurt’s lost his mind. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, honey.” Even Carole is stifling giggles. “The scarecrow doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Then why did Puck bring it up?” Now Finn looks very confused. He’s even set down his fork.

Puck’s full out laughing, and he leans against Kurt, his forehead on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt’s shaking, too, both of them unable to speak.

“Oh, Finn.” Carole shakes her head.

“Sometimes you guys just don’t make any sense,” Finn says, shrugging and picking up his fork again. The look of confusion melts progressively from his face with each subsequent forkfull of food.

“The feeling is entirely mutual some days,” Kurt assures him, slowly calming down. Puck straightens back up but doesn’t recenter himself in the chair, staying just a little closer to Kurt than he was before. Kurt’s foot slides around Puck’s ankle, one toe slipping under Puck’s jeans, and Puck tries really hard not to grin.

The rest of the meal passes quickly after that, Rina and Carole starting up a conversation about some mutual acquaintances and what they’re doing now. Kurt, Puck, and Finn get pressed into service packaging leftovers while Hannah rinses dishes and Burt loads the dishwasher. They all watch more football before dessert, with Kurt’s masterpiece apple pie, and then Rina and Hannah head home, Hannah reminding Puck that he “promised!” that he’d take her out shopping the next afternoon.

 

Carole makes them all a cup of coffee and then Burt turns on the last game of the evening, the 49ers at the Ravens, even though none of them particularly care one way or another about either team, as far as Puck knows. No sooner does he think that than Kurt speaks up.

“I want the 49ers to win.”

“Because of the video?” Finn asks.

“Yes. And they have better uniforms than most teams.” Kurt shrugs negligently.

“I’m sure that’s, um, important,” Finn nods.

“It’s just as a good of a reason as picking a team because they happen to be geographically closest to you.”

“Hey, it makes sense to support your local team, ‘cause of you can go to the games!” Finn protests.

“But most people don’t,” Kurt points out. “I suppose it does make it easier to find merchandise.”

Puck just watches the back and forth with an amused smile, tugging Kurt against his side with his free hand and drinking his coffee as the 49ers march down the field. It _was_ cool that they had stepped up to the plate, so to speak, and done the video.

“Don’t you knock the power of hometown loyalty, son,” Burt says sternly.

“Go Titans?” Kurt says brightly, with a shrug, leaning further into Puck’s side.

“You don’t have to be _that_ hometown,” Burt replies.

Kurt just laughs for a moment and shakes his head. “At least I’m watching a game with a vested interest in the outcome. Right?”

“Sure, son, that’s something,” Burt says, patting Kurt on the back. “I’m glad you’ve found somebody you like enough to watch.”

“Yeah, and the Ravens and the Browns have some complicated history, anyway,” Puck shrugs. “So that’s another good reason not to root for the Ravens.”

“Ravens,” Finn repeats. “Oh, hey, Ravens! Scarecrow!” He nods vigorously like he’s finally gotten a joke.

Puck casts a sidelong glance at Finn and then looks at Kurt, who just shrugs. While Kurt’s turned towards him, though, and everyone’s half-watching the game, Puck brushes his lips over Kurt’s, and Kurt deepens the kiss almost immediately, smiling the entire time.

After a few minutes, Burt coughs, and Kurt slowly pulls away, an almost hard look on his face, and Puck sighs inwardly. He trails his fingers softly down Kurt’s cheek and drops a kiss on Kurt’s forehead before turning back to the game.

After a few moments pass, the 49ers score, and Kurt beams. “See? I picked a good one!”

“Yeah, you did,” Puck agrees, chuckling a little, and rubs his thumb gently over the back of Kurt’s wrist.

“So Puck,” Burt says, firmly. “You’re sleeping up with Finn, right?” He levels a glance at Puck. It’s not hostile, but it’s steady.

Puck’s a little surprised not to be on the couch, really, so he nods. “Good,” Burt says. Finn gives Puck a thumbs up from behind Burt’s back. Puck bites his lip to keep from laughing outright, and Kurt’s burying his face against Puck’s chest, probably for the same reason.

The 49ers have a commanding lead when Kurt shifts and then stretches. “I think Puck and I should go to bed, if we’re getting up at three in the morning.”

“Oh, be careful in the morning,” Carole says, frowning slightly. “Oh, I made sure to get some Hot Pockets for you two–I know, they aren’t the best for you, but you need something hot and quick. I think we’re supposed to get a couple of inches of snow tonight, too.”

“Night, dudes. I’ll try not to wake you up when I come in, a’ight?” Finn says to Puck.

“Yeah, I’ll probably be dead to the world,” Puck nods. “Night, everybody.” He stands up and walks to the doorway as Kurt tells his dad good night and then follows Puck up the stairs. “How’d we manage that one?” Puck asks once they get up the stairs.

“No idea,” Kurt admits. “Thank Carole, I suspect.” Kurt walks to his dresser and pulls out a pair of thick fleece pajamas. “Dad’ll be asleep by midnight at the latest. If you come in here at one or two...” Kurt shrugs. “We can’t _do_ anything, but.”

“Yeah, I know,” Puck agrees with a nod. “I’ll set my alarm really quiet and next to my head, for two.”

“Okay.” Kurt steps close and kisses Puck fiercely, tongue delving deep into Puck’s mouth and Puck curses the rest of the Hudmels being downstairs. Kurt finally pulls away looking a little smug. “Good night, baby. Be good. Or, you know, a little bad.”

Puck grins. “Definitely a good night. I’ll be as good or as bad as you want me.”

“I like the sound of that.” Kurt disappears into the bathroom on that note, and Puck goes into Finn’s room to change into his clothes for sleeping. The air mattress is already set up and Puck puts his duffel bag right next to it before walking back towards the bathroom, where Kurt is just exiting.

“Hey,” Puck says softly, catching Kurt’s wrist. “I love you.”

Kurt smiles, his face open and relaxed. “I love you too.” Kurt kisses him again, this kiss just as chaste as the last one was passionate. “See you in a few hours.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Puck turns the volume down as low as he can on his phone and sets it carefully next to his head after setting the alarm. Chances are no one's going to think anything odd about a few measures of music playing softly, but if they do, he can always say he set his alarm wrong. Knowing what's waiting when the alarm goes off, it's not hard for Puck to fall asleep.

The alarm wakes him with a jolt. Two instead of three; it's a plausible mistake, so he lies there for a few minutes, watching them tick by on his phone until he's sure no one else is awake. Puck rolls into a sitting position and quickly changes his sweatpants for his work pants, then shucks off his t-shirt and pulls on a wifebeater, zipping up his duffel. The door to Finn's room doesn't creak, thankfully, but Puck still goes to the bathroom just in case, and then slips inside Kurt's room.

Kurt's buried under his mound of blankets, his dark hair peeking out at the top, and Puck grins as he drops the duffel near the door and crawls into the bed next to Kurt. Kurt turns in his sleep and throws an arm over Puck in the process, rubbing his face against Puck's bare upper arms. Puck grins and puts an arm over Kurt, drawing the covers back over them, and resets his alarm before drifting back to sleep.

He wakes up to Kurt's finger trailing down his nose, smiling in the moonlight reflected off the snow outside. "Good morning," Kurt whispers, and Puck grins.

"It really is," he agrees, just before Kurt leans down and brings their lips together.

"Sleep well?"

"Funny, I slept a lot better after about an hour ago."

Kurt giggles a little and slides out of bed, shivering slightly. "You want to go warm up those Hot Pockets?"

Puck nods as he sits up. "Sure." He stretches and yawns a little. "Coffee, or you want to wait and get some when you drop me off?"

"I'll wait," Kurt agrees with a smile, and then his head disappears into the closet while Puck pulls on his black shirt for work and heads down the stairs, duffel over his shoulder. He warms up two Hot Pockets for each of them, piling them all on a paper plate and then going ahead and starting on one of his. It doesn't take Kurt that long to appear, clearly streamlined for shopping.

"Got everything?"

"Lists from you, Finn, Carole, your mom, and my dad? Check. Phone loaded with a playlist to keep me awake? Check. Phone loaded with holiday music for the ride back?" Kurt grins a bit evilly. "Check."

"You've thought of everything," Puck laughs and grabs Kurt's hand as they walk out to the Nav after each grabbing a coat. "Damn, it's cold."

"It's _really_ cold," Kurt agrees. "I think we did get more snow overnight."

"Streets are already clear, though."

"Thankfully." Kurt starts the Nav before he even shuts his door, then grabs one of the Hot Pockets and takes a bite. "You're working solo at first?"

"Until 6:30," Puck nods. "But I get all the tips, so that's something."

"Nice," Kurt agrees. The ride over to the Starbucks doesn't take long, and it's just past 3:30 when Puck unlocks the door.

"One venti white chocolate mocha coming right up," Puck promises, grabbing a cup for his own Americano at the same time. "Did you want to take the girls something?"

"I should," Kurt agrees with a nod. "They can buy me lunch in exchange."

"Both days," Puck amends. "They all get fancy expensive drinks."

"True." Kurt sighs and pulls out a drink carrier before accepting his drink gratefully.

"Hey, you at least get the boyfriend discount," Puck points out, taking a sip of his own coffee. "Ahh, that's better."

"Yes it is," Kurt agrees. "So much better." Puck helps him carry out the drinks and settle them in the Nav, then pulls him tight against Puck's body.

"Have fun, blue eyes. Drive safe." He kisses Kurt firmly. "And stay warm."

"I'll do my best," Kurt laughs, stepping back but still holding onto Puck's hand. "Be good, baby."

"I'm always good."

 

Kurt sighs a little as he drives towards Rachel's, letting his CDs play. He doesn't want to deprive any of his girls a single second of his playlist, after all. Rachel, Mercedes, and Tina must be waiting at the window, because they spring out of Rachel's front door as soon as Kurt pulls into the driveway, hurrying through the snow and clamber in.

"Oh my god, you brought us coffee," Mercedes says disbelievingly. "You aren't Kurt Hummel, you're an angel."

"I am often confused for such," Kurt agrees, smirking, and passes the three of them their drinks.

"How did you manage? Starbucks isn't open for hours," Tina asks.

"Black Friday, they open at four," Rachel points out. "Wasn't Puck staying over last night? Finn mentioned it."

Kurt nods. "I gave him a ride this morning. Hence: pre-opening coffee."

"Amazing," Mercedes breaths. "I love having friends in important places."

They all giggle and Kurt heads for Quinn's, where Santana is actually on the porch, tapping her foot, before letting Brittany and Quinn out the door when she sees the Nav.

"About time, Hummel," she grouses, and Kurt just raises his eyebrow.

"I said between 3:30 and 4, and it's not yet four. Plus. Coffee."

"Oh, yummy!" Brittany grins, far too enthusiastic for even Kurt, given the hour. Quinn merely nods and sinks into her seat.

"Are we ready, girls?" Rachel asks, grinning excitedly. "And Kurt."

"Do we lose credibility if we fall back asleep on the way?"

"That's why the five of you are in the back and Rachel's up front," Kurt confirms. "Someone has to stay awake with me. Along with my music." He smiles sweetly.

"Oh, no," Mercedes groans. "You made a new one, didn't you?"

"It just wouldn't feel like Black Friday without it," Kurt points out, deadpan. After all, his keep-Kurt-awake Black Friday playlists _are_ something of a tradition now. He smirks at them all and then hits play.

"Is this…?"

"They actually recorded those songs?"

"It's true. You could have a copy of your musical stylings from prom," Kurt nods.

Mercedes shrugs. "At least I get to listen to my boyfriend this early. Sort of."

Kurt just smiles and cuts his eyes at Rachel for a moment. _Yes, well. So do I._

"Of all the songs we've ever performed, you chose this one," Tina shakes her head.

"The point is to stay awake. Plus, it _is_ Friday."

"I don't think I can replicate their inspired choreography, sadly," Santana sighs.

"Do they know this exists?" Quinn asks, amusement in her voice. "Because I think it would be great to send a copy of this file to each of them."

"I am pretty sure they do not. Actually, there's an audio file somewhere for each the songs we've performed outside a rehearsal. I've considered hijacking Finn's ringtones with them, actually."

The girls slowly fall asleep until Rachel really is the only one awake, chattering quietly as the songs play in the background. US-33 is a lonely strip of highway, even if it is one Kurt now knows moderately well, thanks to the commute to and from Westerville for months the previous school year. When they approach greater Columbus, everyone slowly reawakens, stretching and yawning.

"Where does everyone need to go?" Tina asks, a little more brightly than Kurt would have anticipated, given the hour.

"Everywhere," Kurt groans. "I have lists upon lists."

"Why?"

"I have a list and cash from Carole, my dad, Finn, Puck, and Puck's mother, all. They were at Thanksgiving," he elaborates, "so I offered."

“Still, we should hit the doorbusters today, save the serious hunting for tomorrow,” Mercedes opines.

“Macy’s is having great sales on clothes,” Tina offers, “plus the Lush is in there.”

“I need to hit a department store, definitely,” Kurt rifles through the envelopes. “Also Lush and GameStop. Everything else can probably wait until tomorrow if necessary.”

“Lush is a need?” Santana laughs. “I don’t think they have doorbusters.”

“Lush is always a need,” Kurt assures her. “Dear god, I’ve never shopped for an eight year old girl before.”

“Oh my, they have you shopping for Hannah?” Quinn asks, giggling a little. “This is going to be amusing.”

“Hush, you,” Kurt says mildly. “I have very detailed instructions–at least, with regards to what DS games she wants. The rest of it? ‘An outfit.’ ‘Three pieces of clothing.’ You get the idea.”

“That is specific.”

“Even better? Puck’s directions for his mom. ‘Pick out some kind of awesome jewelry or shit for my mom.’ Yes, it really does say ‘or shit,’” Kurt confirms with a wry smile.

They aren’t the first people in; getting to the mall by 5 am would have required an even earlier start that only Brittany had been in favor of. Kurt’s somewhat relieved as everyone scatters inside Macy’s, with an agreement to meet up again in an hour. He squares his shoulders and heads for the girls’ clothing; if he’s going to manage to get something from him for Hannah as well, he’s got to get started while no one is looking.

 

Business is incredibly slow, and he wonders why they opened early, exactly, given that a hospital is not exactly a shopping mecca, but it gives Puck a chance to ponder on adding a last minute thing to the list he gave Rachel. He finally decides to text her around 5:30, and the response he gets back is appropriately semi-horrified.

 _Are you serious?!? All right. You owe me, Noah!_

Puck laughs and goes back to work. It’s saying the name that will mortify her.

 

He heads for the men’s department afterwards, picking up clothes for Puck, his dad, and Finn all, then browsing for himself before finding the juniors area and the toe socks Finn requested for Rachel. Kurt’s a little amazed that he hasn’t bumped into any of his girls yet, so he heads for Lush and gets the huge gift thing that Finn wants for Rachel. It’s easy to see why; it’s covered in gold stars. He tucks it down inside a larger bag and glances at his phone. Five minutes before he has to meet the girls, and a good portion of his list finished. _Excellent._

“How’d we all do?” Mercedes trills.

“Very well,” Kurt nods, and everyone replies similarly. “Oh, except I forgot to even open my dad’s list. He sealed the envelope for some reason.” They head towards the exit leading to the rest of the mall while Kurt does just that. “Oh! Oh God, this is some of divine retribution!”

“What’s wrong?”

“My eyes!” Kurt stops and screws his eyes shut. “Oh, dear god, I shouldn’t have offered to help Dad, I shouldn’t’ve.”

Mercedes tugs the list out of Kurt’s hand. “Let’s see what’s so–oh.” She starts to laugh. “Yeah, boo, you should’ve stopped offering before you got to your dad.” Kurt shakes his head as she explains to the others. “We’re going to have to accompany Kurt into Victoria’s Secret, I think.”

The others burst into giggles as Kurt speaks again. “My family hates me. _Hates_ me. I don’t want to know about what straight people do. I don’t!”

“Oh, it won’t be so bad,” Rachel offers, and Kurt eyes her askance.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he says finally. He tucks his arm in hers and walks away from the others, speaking quietly. “I’m only doing this in the interest of family solidarity, you understand? You and I will go in, and you will buy something nice that you _will_ wear for my brother. All right?”

Rachel blushes brilliantly. “All... all right,” she agrees after a moment, nodding. “Later, though? We should get to the GameStop. I think Tina and Mercedes need things for their boys there, too, and they did have some excellent deals.”

“Fine,” Kurt nods, and then gestures to the others to come with them.

GameStop proves to be a quick fit of giggles and Kurt’s proud of himself for not going to drool over the new Forza Motorsport, sticking to the DS games for Hannah, most of them discounted so deeply that he picks up two more for himself to give her. A couple of games and hopefully a nice outfit; Kurt’s out of his depth entirely but is far more worried about finding the right balance with Rina.

They head out of GameStop and get turned around in their effort to find Sears, which Kurt blames entirely on Tina and Santana refusing to listen to him, and if it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t have seen her at all.

He stumbles a little, and Mercedes catches him. “You okay?”

“Look over there,” he whispers frantically. “Isn’t that...?”

“Oh hell no,” Mercedes responds, nodding. “Ms. Corcoran. We need to–”

“Brookstone,” Kurt agrees, nodding towards the store they’re about to pass, and with that, Mercedes flings herself towards Rachel, steering her in, and Kurt tucks his arm in Quinn’s, calling her attention to the wireless outdoor speaker sitting in the back of the store. “Don’t you think that would be perfect for our top-secret rehearsals?”

“Sure.” Quinn gives him an odd look. “I thought we were headed to Sears.”

“Well, I just remembered, Brookstone has the world’s smallest iron,” Kurt improvises, and deposits Quinn alongside Rachel near the speaker. “Why don’t you two see if that speaker really would work for rehearsal?”

With that, he scurries back over to Mercedes, who is standing near the front of the store. “It was her,” she confirms, voice low.

“Did... did she have Beth with her?” Kurt asks, because it’s one thing for Shelby to be walking around the same mall, but if Beth’s there, he’s taking his girls elsewhere, immediately.

Mercedes shakes her head, though. “No, she didn’t.” Kurt sighs a little in relief.

“Okay. Good. I _am_ going to go buy a very small iron and a very small hairdryer, because they are sharply discounted and I will need very small things next year.” Kurt shoots Mercedes a tight smile. “Go ooh over the outdoor wireless speaker with them?”

“Sure, boo.” Mercedes returns the smile. “That was smart thinking.”

Kurt just lets his smile widen as she walks away, because he can’t explain how automatic that reaction was, nor how relieved he is that he nor Mercedes nor any of the others saw Beth before Puck did, because it wouldn’t have been _right_.

Rachel and Quinn actually agree on something, with Santana and Mercedes helping them do so, and they end up splitting the cost of the speaker seven ways. Kurt makes an unplanned but perfect purchase for his dad and then they all head back into the mall once more, this time with no sign of Shelby.

They split up again when they get to Sears, Kurt heading towards the Lands End section because while he would never wear anything from there, the little girls’ clothing isn’t too dreadful, and he feels obligated to outfit Hannah in adorableness in some way. Another sweep through the men’s department finishes up Carole’s list for Finn and Burt, too.

 

Puck’s bored out of his mind when Rachel texts him.

 _Kurt’s eyeing these silk glove liners. They’re $10 today, another 10% off that?_

Puck grins. Yeah, Kurt would need something like that. Still, he’s pretty much got Kurt’s presents figured out, and he doesn’t want to substitute those for something else.

 _Pass, but thx_ is the response he sends back, then looks up with a yawn as someone approaches the Starbucks but doesn’t enter.

Puck is really glad that at least if he has to work Black Friday again, he’ll be doing it in a place where people actually are out shopping.

 

Another few stops, including Victoria’s Secret (much to Kurt’s chagrin), and the early-morning deals start to end. Kurt suggests Ruby Tuesday’s for lunch innocently. After everyone’s agreed, he smiles primly. “So I’m ever so pleased you girls are going to buy my lunch.”

“We are?” Brittany asks.

“Darlings, I love you all, but your coffee? Cost me nearly thirty dollars.”

Mercedes laughs. “Yeah, all right. We’ll buy your lunch.”

“Oh, good. I’m thinking steak. And lobster mac ‘n’ cheese.” Kurt bounces on the balls of his feet a little and approaches the hostess stand. “Seven, please.”

 

Puck doesn’t even try to suppress his yawn when the clock finally hits noon and he can leave. He grabs his duffel from the back room and waves as he shrugs on his coat. Yeah, he promised Hannah a trip out, but he’s hoping she’ll wait until after he’s crashed and had a nap. It’s a cold walk home, and Puck realizes he’s going to have to suck it up and actually wear gloves and shit, if he’s going to walk to work in the mornings much longer. He can’t keep the Nav overnight on days they have school.

He unlocks the door and heads towards the refrigerator, pausing in his hunt for food to read his mom’s note that she and Hannah went out to lunch and, against her better judgment, the mall. Puck snorts and grabs some meat and the mustard and throws together a sandwich.

 _Heading out soon. ETA 2 hours-ish. You home?_

 _Yep. Gonna nap for a bit. Come see me? :)_

 _Def._

 _Drive safe xx_

 _Always xx_

Puck finishes his sandwich and sheds his clothes, hoping that Hannah and his mom get bogged down at the mall for a bit. He sprawls on the bed and thinks about what he’d like to do as soon as Kurt arrives, falling asleep with a grin on his face.

 

Kurt returns to the table smiling, then scans the rest of them. “Retreat and regroup tomorrow in Cincy?”

Tina nods. “I’m wiped. I don’t know how you’re going to stay awake to drive us back, Kurt.”

“I know,” Mercedes groans.

“That’s right.” Kurt grins. “Holiday music!” He smirks at the looks on their faces and waits impatiently for the bill to be settled as they half-heartedly grumble.

The drive back is no less boring, just bright and sunny, Mercedes sitting next to Kurt instead of Rachel. “For an atheist, you sure do love Christmas music.”

“I am an equal-opportunity atheist. I have as many Hanukkah songs on this playlist as I could find. It’s not my fault that ‘as many as I could find’ is only five.”

“That’s five more than I know,” Mercedes laughs, and even Rachel does.

“How did you find five?”

“Well... so two of them are clearly parodies.” Kurt shrugs. “They’re still Hanukkah... ish.”

“Oh dear.”

“I couldn’t find anything for Ramadan, alas.”

“I think we’ll survive,” Tina laughs.

Kurt drops them off in reverse order, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany first, and then Mercedes, Quinn, and Tina. “You want to catch a movie tonight? Some good stuff came out Wednesday.”

“Oh, I’d love to, ‘Cedes, but I need to crash before tomorrow and still make family dinner.” Kurt smiles, but he knows he hasn’t hung out with Mercedes properly in ages. It’s not that he doesn’t want to–he just wants to hang out with her _less_ than he wants to spend time with Puck. He runs through the week in his mind. “Thursday night, sweetie? You and me?”

“Yeah,” Mercedes grins. “We’ll go out after glee and have dinner and catch a movie.” With that, she slides out of the front seat. “See you tomorrow, boo!”

Kurt waves at her and then heads towards Puck’s. He wasn’t lying; he is tired, and after he goes out with Puck and Hannah, there is family dinner. He has a feeling he and Puck will end up asleep on the couch afterwards.

 

Puck wakes up after about an hour and a half. After stretching, he texts his mom to see where she and Hannah are; he grins when he sees that she thinks it’ll be another two hours before they get home, as long as he can still do whatever it is with Hannah at that point? He sends back an affirmative response and pulls on a pair of jeans, because he can’t really answer the door in just his underwear. Well, he used to, sometimes, but the neighbors complained. Still, he has a plan for the afternoon, and he just needs Kurt to show up.

He doesn’t have to wait long, though, before there’s a knock on the door, and he opens it to get an armful of Kurt just a minute later. “You are a sight for sore eyes,” Kurt breaths, and then latches on to Puck’s lips. Puck grins and slides his tongue into Kurt’s mouth, parting his lips for Kurt’s tongue to do the same to him.

Puck breaks the kiss after a few moments, capturing Kurt’s hand and leading him towards the bedroom. “Mom and Hannah won’t be back for awhile.”

“Thank god.” Kurt grins. “I mean, oh, whatever shall we do?”

“I have a few ideas,” Puck grins. He closes the door behind them, just in case, and presses Kurt against the door, aligning their hips tightly and kissing Kurt hard, his hand holding Kurt’s head in place.

Kurt thrusts up against Puck, sliding his hand up Puck’s back, fingernails scraping gently against the skin, and Puck grins into their kiss. They slowly move backwards, crashing into the bed without breaking their kiss, and Puck’s beginning to wish he’d taken the chance and opened the door in his underwear, after all. Kurt pulls away just after he thinks that, and strips off his clothes in near-record time: scarf, jacket, shirt, jeans, underwear, socks, all tossed haphazardly around the room. Somebody that doesn’t know Kurt wouldn’t understand why it makes Puck grin and get a little harder; knowing Kurt is just that impatient and puts Puck that far ahead of his precious clothes is awesome, and Puck quickly pulls his own jeans and underwear off.

Puck pulls their bodies together, skin against skin all the way down, and he nips at Kurt’s neck, grinning when he feels Kurt’s teeth on his shoulder in response. Puck doesn’t linger long, though, because he knows what he wants, and he slides down Kurt’s body until he rests his head in the curve of Kurt’s pelvis, Kurt’s cock jutting out and so close to his mouth. “Oh, please,” Kurt murmurs, his hand petting Puck’s head. “Please, Puck. Need you.”

Puck leans in, licks from the base to the head and then grips the bottom loosely in his hand, looking up at Kurt. “Need _you_ ,” he echoes, then closes his mouth over the tip of Kurt’s erection, swirling his tongue around it. He slides incrementally farther down, cursing the fact that his gag reflex so far has kept him from doing what he _really_ want to do, take all of Kurt into his mouth, but he takes as much as he can, hollowing his cheeks and concentrating on making Kurt feel as good as possible.

It’s not really a hardship, because Kurt feels so good in his mouth, and Puck doesn’t want to lie to anyone or run around hiding even more things than they already do, but he can tell from the noises Kurt’s making, the way his body’s responding, and Puck’s own straining cock that they _need_ this, need more than the Tuesdays they’ve been squeezing out. Staying in the closet, it’s all hard, but sometimes Puck thinks the hardest part is the simplest, the _not touching_. He needs to touch, needs to feel, and maybe Kurt’s not as tactile as Puck, but Puck’s pretty sure Kurt needs it, too.

Puck increases his speed a little, his tongue moving over the tip repeatedly, and Kurt mewls a little, then begins to hum, his hips thrusting upwards minutely, and Puck strokes his thumb down the underside of Kurt’s cock slowly. Kurt comes just a moment later, crying out and filling Puck’s mouth. Puck keeps sucking until Kurt is still, then slowly kisses his way up Kurt’s chest and fixes his mouth over Kurt’s. Kurt arches up a little, into the kiss, and wraps his arms around Puck’s neck.

Puck slides his thumb over Kurt’s cheek, gently, bracing himself with his other hand before lowering himself to the bed on his side. Kurt shifts onto his side, facing Puck, still not moving away from him, and slides a leg in between Puck’s, pressing against Puck’s erection. Puck thrusts against it before breaking the kiss and leaning their foreheads together.

Kurt grins. “Clearly I should go shopping more often.”

Puck shakes his head. “Nah.” He kisses Kurt again. “We just need privacy more often.”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, then flexes his leg against Puck again, making Puck press his lips together. “And you need something right now.”

“Just you,” Puck grunts, running his tongue over his lips as Kurt’s hands ghost down his chest.

“Mmmhmm.” Kurt closes his hand around Puck and slides his thumb over the tip of Puck’s cock before pumping slowly up and down. “Perfect.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Puck murmurs, thrusting into Kurt’s hand, lips against Kurt’s neck. Kurt’s hand speeds up a little in response, and Puck closes his eyes, rocking into Kurt.

“Mine,” Kurt whispers in response, his other hand cradling Puck’s head and his lips pressed against Puck’s scalp. His breath skims across it, making Puck shiver a little and push himself closer, into Kurt’s warmth, as Kurt’s hand tightens and he twists his wrist slightly. Puck’s breath hitches and he can feel Kurt grinning against him, knowing what that means. “Yeah, come for me, baby,” Kurt says softly, and Puck does just that, shuddering and crying out before slumping into Kurt’s chest.

He leaves his eyes closed for a minute, listening to Kurt quietly cleaning them up and then settling onto the bed. “Hmm. How long do we have?” Kurt asks.

“Not long enough,” Puck answers, straightening a little to look into Kurt’s eyes.

“No, not long enough,” Kurt agrees. “But at least we have a little while.”

“Yeah. Still up to going over to Color Me Mine with Hannah?”

“Sure.” Kurt kisses Puck’s forehead and then his lips. He opens his mouth when his phone chimes and he frowns. “I’ll see what that is.” He’s back on the bed before Puck can complain. “Ah. Yes.” Kurt frowns more deeply and looks at Puck. “We had a momentary crisis that Mercedes and I averted.”

“What kind of crisis?” Puck’s pretty sure he looks puzzled.

“We got turned around–which I suppose isn’t the important thing, but we wouldn’t’ve even been there otherwise–and, well. I looked across the mall and saw Shelby.”

Puck’s eyes widen and he feels a little bit like he got kicked. “Was–Did she–”

“No. She wasn’t there.” Puck lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That wouldn’t have been–right,” Kurt continues. “But between Quinn and Rachel, I still didn’t think visiting was a great plan.”

Puck snorts. “No, probably not.”

“So Mercedes and I trotted us all into Brookstone for awhile. That text was Santana wanting to know what went down.” Kurt shrugs and types a short response. “I think ‘Shelby Corcoran’ is probably explanation enough.”

“Yeah,” Puck agrees. “I wonder–”

“Didn’t you say Shelby had a big family?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably it.” Puck nods. “Damn, I never thought about–”

“I didn’t either.” Kurt wraps an arm tightly around Puck. “Just as well we’re going to Cincinnati tomorrow.”

“Yeah, did you find anything for my mom yet?” Kurt shakes his head. “You’re going to Ikea, maybe new plates would be better. Ours are mismatched, and the Ikea ones aren’t that expensive.”

“Hmm. I could get her matching serving dishes, which would solve that problem nicely.”

“That’d be cool.” Puck grins at Kurt and then pulls him over for another kiss. “We should get dressed in case Mom and Hannah get back quicker than Mom thought.”

They’re dressed and finishing splitting the remainder of a carton of peppermint stick ice cream when Hannah and Rina return. Hannah lights up and bounds over, full of stories about what she found at the mall followed by biting her lip just after “and” several times, looking guiltily at Rina, who just laughs.

“You ready, squirt?”

“Yeah!”

“Put on your hat and gloves again!”

“Mom!”

“You heard her,” Puck interjects. “Besides, you wouldn’t want Kurt to feel like he has on too many layers.” Kurt just sticks out his tongue and Puck laughs. “Actually, can you grab me some decent gloves tomorrow? Maybe a hat too. I can’t keep the Nav every night I have work the next morning.”

“No,” Kurt agrees with a sigh. “I think I can find something good for you. You want good enough for New York?”

“Might as well.” Puck shrugs. He raises his voice then. “Mom, I’ll bring Hannah back by 5:30.”

“Okay. Have fun!”

“We will!” Hannah cries, bouncing a little, and Puck grins as she takes Kurt’s hand and pulls him towards the door. As soon as they’re on the stairs, she demanded to know where they’re going.

“Color Me Mine,” Puck says. “You can paint something for Mom. Maybe some candlesticks or a vase or something.”

“Neat!” is Hannah’s only opinion, and when they reach the street, Kurt sighs.

“We should just walk. The parking’s awful today and I was lucky to get this spot. It’s only a few blocks.”

“Noah can keep you warm,” Hannah offers innocently, and both Puck and Kurt burst out laughing.

“Probably better not to say that, Hannah,” Puck offers after a moment. “But I think Kurt’ll be fine until we get there.” Kurt nods and they head off to Color Me Mine, which really is only a few blocks away, and Puck’s absently glad he thought to ask Kurt to get him gloves the very next day.

Color Me Mine isn’t crowded, and Hannah picks out a pair of candlesticks and a decorative pitcher, setting the pitcher in front of Puck with a look. “You paint this one,” she orders, and Puck just chuckles and does as commanded, much to Kurt’s amusement. When they’re done, the woman at the desk assures them they can pick up the finished pieces on Monday or Tuesday, and Hannah extracts a promise from Puck to walk over on Monday before dinner.

When they get back to the apartment, Puck stops to check his email before they head over to the Hudmel house. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Kurt asks from his place on the bed.

“Schue’s sent us all an email.”

“Oh dear. Read it out loud?”

“Sure. ‘Hope all of you are having a great break and enjoyed great food yesterday! Below is our rehearsal schedule for next week as we get ready for Sectionals.’ Uh-oh, Finn’s gonna be pissed if it interferes with his,” Puck adds, laughing. “Okay. ‘In addition to rehearsing, we don’t want to lose our spontaneity, so each of you will be assigned a fellow glee club member for whom you will select a song. They will find out what song they are singing approximately 24 hours before performing. See separate emails for who you are picking a song for. Won’t this be fun? Send your song choices to me by noon on Sunday.’” Puck stares at the screen. “He’s insane, blue eyes.”

“Who’d you get?”

“Let me see... oh, fuck. Santana.”

“Jill Sobule, ‘I Kissed A Girl,’” Kurt fires back. “Not the Katy Perry song, it’s from when we were little. I mean, it’s anonymous, right?”

Puck goes back to re-read the email. “Yeah, looks like. Ha, you really think I should?”

Kurt shrugs. “Maybe. Let’s see who I have.” He pulls out his phone and waits for his email to load. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, the man is stupid.”

“Why?”

“He gave me Finn.”

“This is supposed to be some kind of team-building exercise, no doubt.”

“I stick with your earlier assessment. He’s insane.” Kurt swings his legs to the side and sits up. “Let’s go eat leftovers. Probably Schue thinks we can all use the opportunity to say something to someone that we wouldn’t say outright.”

“He’s just a couple of years behind.”

Kurt snorts and pulls his coat back on. “When isn’t he?”

“Good point.”

Puck knows his eyes widen when Kurt goes to the rear to get his bags out. “Holy shit, K. Need a hand?”

“I do.” Kurt frowns at the bags and then points out three of them. “There, you can take those. Don’t look in any of them, though. I’ll sort out what I need to give to you and everyone else once I get them inside.”

“Okay.” Puck shrugs and takes the indicated bags while Kurt juggles the rest and heads in the through the garage.

“We’re home,” Kurt yells as he shuts the door.

“Hi!” Carole’s voice calls out from the vicinity of the kitchen. “Dinner’ll be ready in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect,” Kurt says as they pass by. “I can sort all this out.”

“Did you have fun? Get good deals?”

“Mmmhmm.” Kurt nods. “Tomorrow’s the real marathon day, though.” They continue up the stairs and Kurt makes Puck sit on the desk chair looking towards the window with his eyes closed while he sorts things out. Puck hears the closet door open and close and then Kurt speaks again. “Okay, you can turn around. And help me sort everything else out.”

Puck laughs as he spins around and takes in the sight of Kurt’s bed covered in stuff. “And you said tomorrow is longer? Or more or whatever?”

“It is.” Kurt nods. “Especially going to Ikea. I think I should introduce Rachel to Trader Joe’s, too. She’ll love it.”

“Who’ll love what?” Finn asks, poking his head into Kurt’s room. “Get anything good?”

Kurt gestures expansively to the covered bed. “See for yourself.”

“That’s a lot of stuff.” Finn’s eyes widen, like the number of bags on the bed is difficult for him to process.

“Well, some of it goes to you, some with Puck, some to Rina, some to your mom, and _that_ ,” Kurt points to a pink-striped bag with some disdain, “goes to Dad.”

“That’s not, that isn’t, why would he?” Finn sputters. “No. Just, just _no_.”

“He _sealed_ the envelope,” Kurt chokes out. “So I wouldn’t notice ahead of time.”

“Damn.” Puck inserts. “Who knew your parents had it in them?”

“I need you to stop talking now, dude,” Finn says, shuddering. “Seriously. No more talking.”

“Would you like to take your things now?” Kurt asks, obviously changing the subject.

“Yes. Yes I would,” Finn nods. “Back to my room, where it’s safe and nice and...just, yeah.”

“Not pink?” Kurt offers, picking up a couple of packages and stacking them on top of a relatively big gold-star-covered box and handing them to Finn.

“That’s a big box,” Finn mutters. “Geez. The things we do for love, right?”

Puck snorts a little, and Kurt rolls his eyes slightly. “It should be a big box, as much as you paid for it.”

“Love?” Finn says again, looking pained.

“I think he meant the box, dude,” Puck points out.

Finn makes a face at Puck. “I _knew_ that. God, seriously. I mean, love makes the cost worthwhile, right?”

“Sure. As long as you aren’t spending money just to say you spent a fuck ton, right?” Puck shrugs.

“She’s hard to shop for,” Finn shrugs. “If I could do it cheaper, I would. I just want her to have nice stuff. She deserves nice stuff.”

“Oh, did you get Schue’s email?” Kurt suddenly breaks in.

“Well, the new ‘practices’ won’t overlap our real practices, at least?” Finn says.

“Yeah, but I think Schue’s finally gone insane, giving us an assignment right before Sectionals.” Puck shakes his head.

“Who’d you get, anyway?” Finn asks. “Are we allowed to talk about it?”

“It’s supposed to be a secret, I think,” Puck answers, and Kurt just hums. “Probably some kind of bizarre team-building. Like those trust fall things they used to make us do in middle school.”

“I hope nobody gives me, like, opera or something,” Finn says, looking distressed. “Or country. Or Celine Dion.”

Puck and Kurt both burst into laughter, Puck at the thought of Finn warbling his way though a Celine Dion number. “You’re not even Canadian, dude.”

“Neither is Rachel and that hasn’t stopped _her_.” Now Finn looks worried. “What if Rachel got me? What if she picks some awful Celine Dion song? Kurt, you’ve gotta talk to her and make sure that doesn’t happen!”

“I will spread the word to whomever has been blessed with your name that you are not to be given a Celine Dion song,” Kurt promises, and if his smile is a little impish, well. Puck doesn’t think Finn’s going to figure out exactly why.

“Thanks, man,” Finn sighs in relief. “You’re the best, you know that? Ok, I better get this stuff in my room before it’s time to eat!” He gathers up the bags and the gold-starred package from Kurt and awkwardly balances them in his arms. “See you downstairs in a few.” He carries his armload out the door and to his room.

Kurt looks at Puck and smirks. “I should pick out a Celine Dion number, shouldn’t I?”

“Oh, definitely.” Puck grins. “And if it really is all anonymous–what was that song you said?”

“‘I Kissed A Girl,’ but it’s Jill Sobule. Hang on, I’ll pull it up.” Kurt opens up his laptop and finds the song on YouTube.

“Okay, that’s hilarious.” Puck grins. “Definitely using that.”

 

After dinner–leftovers that were exactly what Puck would have wanted if he could have had anything, actually–Puck and Kurt go back up the stairs and Puck takes the bags for himself and his mom, before helping Kurt take the rest of it to Carole and Burt. The bed finally clear, they both collapse onto it, arms wrapped around each other. “You realize I’m going to fall asleep if we don’t move, right?” Kurt says, voice already heavy.

“Yeah, I know,” Puck admits. “But we’re on top of the covers and I’m going to just enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Kurt nods, and Puck looks over to note his eyes already closing.

Puck shakes himself awake, not sure how long he’s been asleep. The light’s still on and he can hear sound coming out of Finn’s room. Kurt’s curled around him and Puck sighs, content. In a few minutes, he’ll have to wake Kurt up, and Kurt will take him home, but for a minute, he’s going to pretend.

 

Despite waking up two hours later than he did the day before, Puck decides almost immediately that Saturday is not as awesome as Friday. For starters, he's alone in bed. Puck frowns and rubs his hands over his eyes. He should have told himself not to get used to it, because the number of times it's going to happen before next August or so is pretty limited. Puck sighs and crawls out of bed, getting dressed quickly before deciding to throw a few things in his bag in case he can get Finn to just pick him up after work. He pulls on his coat and trudges down the stairs and through the snow, absently glad for the boots he had in the back of his closet.

Work picks up pretty quickly for a Saturday, but then, it's been awhile since Puck worked a Saturday, so maybe he's just forgotten what it's like. It's close to 8:30 when his phone buzzes, and another few minutes before he can read the text from Kurt.

 _Made it to Kenwood safe. I know you worry. xx_

Puck smiles a little and types out a fast response before another customer can show up.

 _Thx K. Have fun :) xx_

 

Kurt doesn't pick everyone up until 6:30 this time, and they don't stop for coffee until they reach Troy. Yesterday was about the doorbusters; today, they've each streamlined their lists and made a plan of attack.

"What about you, Kurt?"

"Mostly Ikea. I want to scour some of the stores for things for me. You never know where a fabulous piece is sitting at 60% off."

"Plus you don't have to fight the six of us off to get it," Tina giggles.

"Very true," Kurt grins. "All right, ladies, let's conquer this place!"

Kurt has a very successful shopping morning, finding a great gift for Hannah, a gag gift of sorts for Finn, and everything but an Ikea gift card off Rina's list. He ducks into FYE and grabs another season of Survivor, crossing that off Puck’s list, and then heads towards Nordstrom, running into Rachel as he does so.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

Kurt shakes his head and leads the way towards the menswear department. "I just thought I'd check the clearance racks and the sales. Really, I'm done with the lists until I hit Ikea."

"I haven't got that much for Finn," Rachel confesses. "Maybe you can help me find something here?"

"Sure," Kurt acquiesces, and they begin flipping through the racks. "Ohh," Kurt says after a moment. "Now this."

Rachel comes over and looks puzzled. "That's not your usual look."

"Oh, not for me," Kurt waves his hand dismissively. "I know someone who needs appropriate clothing for auditions at the beginning of March." He catches her eye and grins.

"Yes," she matches his grin, looking around before continuing. "I think your boyfriend would look good in this."

Kurt slips it off the hanger and on. "And it should fit him perfectly," he concludes after a moment of consideration. He smiles a little impishly and puts it back on the hanger. "Come on, I need to find some gloves. _Someone_ finally is man enough to realize walking to work all winter requires gloves."

Rachel laughs and follows him. “I don’t know how you two manage,” she confesses after a minute. “Keeping it a secret, I mean.”

“I think it helps that most people don’t think it’s possible,” Kurt says after a moment. “After all, everyone _knows_ Puck is straight, right?” He smirks for a second. “And therefore, we have to just be good friends. But no, it’s not particularly easy.”

“Is it...I’m worried about you,” Rachel gushes suddenly. “I mean, you’re out, it’s not really fair of Puck to ask you–”

“Stop,” Kurt says calmly. “Okay. I knew Puck wasn’t planning on coming out a good two or three weeks before _anything_ started between us. Anything we were both aware of, anyway,” he amends, thinking of Finn’s assertion that they had been stealth dating. “In fact, I agreed with him that it was probably the better course of action. I knew exactly what I was agreeing to.”

Rachel looks confused. “Wait. You mean. I just assumed.”

“People make a lot of assumptions,” Kurt says flatly, picking up a pair of leather gloves and examining them. “It’s an interesting phenomenon.” He sighs and looks over at Rachel. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. To answer the question you didn’t exactly ask, no, Puck did not have a gay revelation due to any specific interaction between he and I. He came out to a few people; I was one of them. A few weeks later, there was interest expressed, we started... dating.” Kurt’s lips twitch a little and he looks past Rachel; he doesn’t think she’d understand if he said Puck started convincing him.

“Oh.” Rachel looks a little startled but shrugs. “All right. As long as you’re both at the same place regarding how open you are about your relationship.” She steps beside him and points to another pair. “What about these? Cashmere lining.”

“Oh, very nice,” Kurt agrees, picking up a pair and sliding a finger inside.

“They’re rather expensive, though.”

Kurt shrugs a little. “If anyone–named Puck–asks, they were on sale. Got it?”

Rachel grins. “Got it.”

Kurt finds a hat, just for good measure, figuring it might take a year to convince Puck to cover his head, and then he and Rachel head back to meet the others at their pre-arranged meeting point.

“I want to go over to Old Navy,” Tina announces. “We could eat at the Johnny Rockets?”

“Mmm, I want a hamburger,” Kurt agrees. “Old Navy, Johnny Rockets, a special surprise stop, and then Ikea?”

“Sound perfect,” Mercedes agrees.

It’s at Old Navy, surprisingly, that Kurt makes his best find, deal-wise. They decide to stick together inside the Old Navy, and once the girls are finally done, they follow him to the clearance rack in the men’s section.

“Ohh,” he murmurs. “I think I found something perfect for Regionals, Nationals, or both.”

“What?” Santana asks immediately.

“These.” Kurt points to an array of deeply-discounted, lightweight military-style jackets. “Hang on.” He sets down his bag and takes off his coat, grabbing the size small and slipping it on. “All right, that’s me, so Artie, too.” He grabs two size smalls and hands them to Mercedes. “Hmm.”

“Extra-large for Finn?”

“Probably,” Kurt agrees, slipping it on and examining the fit. “Yes, extra-large for Frankenteen. Okay. So.” He thinks for a moment and then pulls on both a medium and a large. “Tina?”

“Yes?” she asks, startled.

“You wear Mike’s jackets on occasion?”

She blushes a little but grins. “Yeah.”

“Good. Tell me if this is about right.” He hands her the medium, and after a moment, she nods.

“Perfect.”

“Sam’s probably a medium, too, then,” Mercedes offers, and Kurt nods.

“Yes, and the large for Puck. I can’t believe they have the sizes we need.”

“Me either!” Rachel bounces.

“Don’t forget to make Mr. Schue pay you back,” Brittany says out of the blue. “Lord Tubbington told me he thought Mr. Schue was a bedazzler.”

“I think you mean embezzler,” Mercedes corrects. “Not that he is. I mean.” She shakes her head.

“Speaking of Mr. Schue,” Kurt changes the subject slightly, heading for the registers. “The man is clearly insane. Finn, by the way, is afraid that someone is going to make him sing Celine Dion.”

Everyone bursts into giggles, shaking their heads.

“Yeah, why _did_ he give us an assignment this week? It doesn’t make any sense,” Quinn says, shaking her head.

“Because he’s insane, like I said.” Kurt shrugs.

“I’m beginning to think you’re right,” Mercedes agrees. “Ooh, look, someone named pop after my family!”

Hamburgers, fries, and milkshakes consumed, Kurt drives towards the Trader Joe’s before heading to Ikea. “Behold, the grocery store of pre-made meals and excellent prices.”

“I’ve heard about them!” Rachel says excitedly.

“New York, California and Pacific Northwest, Georgia, and New England all have them,” Kurt nods at Rachel, Santana, Mercedes, and Tina in turn. “Not sure about out west or in Florida,” he continues, looking at Quinn and Brittany.

“Still! Let’s go look!” Kurt shakes his head at Rachel’s enthusiasm as the girls wander around the grocery store somewhat excitedly.

“Okay, girls,” he says after fifteen minutes. “Ikea. We still have Ikea and a two hour drive home, and it’s already after one.”

“How long do you think Ikea is going to take?”

“Awhile,” Kurt says confidently.

Kurt can’t quite keep from smirking at the looks on half of their faces when they pull up at the Ikea. “Wow. That’s _really_ big,” Brittany comments, awed.

“I told you it would take awhile.” Kurt shrugs. “Divide and conquer or stick together?”

“Let’s divide into two groups,” Rachel suggests. “Since Kurt and I have been here recently, we can each take a group.”

“Sure,” Mercedes shrugs. Kurt can see her glance toward the backseat. “I’ll go with Rachel.”

“I’ll go with Kurt,” Tina says, and they sort themselves in two groups, Quinn and Santana coming with Tina and Kurt, Brittany and Mercedes going with Rachel.

“So what’s on your list?” Tina asks.

“Gift card, dishes, a wall cabinet, and then I have a few things I want to look at,” Kurt says, carefully trying to give the appearance that the other things are all being purchased on behalf of other people.

“Neat. I’ve been past Ikea before but never inside it.”

“Prepare to be amazed, my dear,” Kurt says grandiosely, leading the way inside.

The girls are appropriately amazed, and Kurt manages to find everything he needs to get, plus take a few surreptitious notes to add to the notes already made. After they finally check out, he waits in yet another line to get Finn’s food, followed by five pans of cinnamon buns.

“Two hours back?” Mercedes groans as they meet back at the Nav. “Your brother’s going to be upset.”

“It’s only three-thirty,” Kurt shakes his head and then frowns. “I could use to make one more stop in Dayton, but it’s...”

“Top secret?” Rachel suggests brightly.

“Yes, exactly,” Kurt smiles at her. “I’ll just find some time... god, I have no idea when.”

“Is it near the Dayton Mall?” Tina asks.

“Drop us off at Eddie Bauer,” Quinn suggests. “Would thirty minutes be enough?”

“I hope so,” Kurt nods, and with that plan, they head northward, Kurt smirking as he plays his holiday music.

It actually works well; he’s able to meet them back at Eddie Bauer in exactly thirty minutes, and it puts their estimated arrival time at six pm. Rachel reclaims the front seat from Mercedes, and Kurt throws his phone at her. “Send a text to you-know-who with our ETA?”

“Sure,” Rachel grins.

“You can’t call your brother by his name?” Mercedes snorts.

“Where would be the fun in that?” Kurt says lightly, but Rachel cuts her eyes at him with another smile, clearly fighting back a laugh.

 

Ms Horatio nods for Puck to go ahead and take off a little before two, so he heads to the bathroom and changes, wrinkling his nose a little, and then heads back into the store to see Finn leading on the counter with one elbow, talking to Ms Horatio about something involving an elephant and possibly pie. Finn makes an expansive gesture with his other arm and Ms Horatio laughs.

“Hey, dude,” Puck greets him, holding out his fist. “I see you met my manager.”

“Yeah, apparently it’s obvious that I’m related to Kurt,” Finn laughs. “She knew right away I was here to get you.”

“The Munster Chaffeur Service, with very limited service,” Puck jokes, then turns to Ms. Horatio. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she agrees, and Puck and Finn walk outside.

“She’s nice,” Finn says. “Nicer than my manager at Sheets n’ Things. Plus, nobody ever tries to return anything they’ve peed on.”

“Yeah, that’s another perk,” Puck agrees, climbing into Finn’s truck.

The drive to the Hudmel house is short, and Puck makes himself comfortable in the living room when they arrive. Finn seems unusually preoccupied with making sure everything is ready for rehearsal, pacing from room to room, and obsessively checking the clock. “Dude. Chill. It’s, like, 2:30. No one’s going to be here for a couple of hours at least.”

“But what if they aren’t back from Cincy on time?” Finn asks, relocating the boom box a few times. “Is this a good spot for this? What if they hit traffic?”

“It’s Saturday. That’s fine. And you did sort of give Kurt some leeway about what time to get back.”

“That’s because Black Friday, or Black Saturday or whatever, is like _church_ for Kurt. You don’t mess with that, man. It’s not cool. Still,” Finn sighs, “I should have been more encouraging of them coming back on time.”

Puck shakes his head. “It’s more than half the club. You really think you could tell those girls what to do?”

“I’m the _leader_ , Puck!” Finn sounds exasperated. “We need to have _real_ practices, especially now that Schue wants to start running some of his own. We need to make sure we stay sharp and not let him mess up our work.”

“Finn, _chill_. It’s Saturday. If we have to, we can all stay here until 11:30 tonight or something. We’ll rehearse again tomorrow night and during the day Tuesday and Thursday. We’re _good_.”

“We’ve got to get this _right_ , Puck.”

“And we will. Have you actually listened to us? We sang our songs a capella, for fuck’s sake.”

Finn looks kind of crazy-eyed. “Yeah, and we were _awful_ a capella!”

“The dancing was awful, yeah, because we learned our cues with the music, not the lyrics, and that’s normally good. But the singing? Was good. We’re doing really good.” Puck frowns. “Okay, so, figure out a time for an extra rehearsal this week. Will that make you feel better? Only, not Tuesday.”

Finn freezes in place for a moment and his eyes dart back and forth, then he exhales deeply and seems to relax some. “Ok, yeah. Yeah, an extra practice. That’ll work. That’s a good idea. Thanks.” He sighs, loudly. “Being the leader is hard.”

Puck waves his hand dismissively. “No charge.”

“Call of Duty?” Finn asks, gesturing at the TV. “Haven’t done that in a while.”

“Yeah, for real,” Puck nods, holding up his hands to catch the controller as Finn tosses it towards him. They play for quite a while before Puck’s phone chimes and he pauses the game to read the text.

 _This is Rachel, Kurt is driving. We should be there at 6, he says._

Puck snorts. “They’ll be here at six, dude.”

“Ok, six is good.” Finn nods. “Not gonna answer?”

“Kurt’s driving, Rachel just used his phone,” Puck explains, setting his phone down and picking the controller back up. “The other guys are going to be here at five, though, right?”

Finn quirks a little smile at Rachel’s name, then answers, “Yeah, that’s the plan. Unless they get run over by crazy Black Saturday shoppers, I guess.”

“I think the crazy ones leave Lima. Exhibit A,” he grins, gesturing at his phone.

“Yours and mine, dude,” Finn shakes his head. “I swear.”

“I’m sure that says something. I don’t know what, exactly, but something.”

“I don’t know that I _wanna_ know what that says about us.”

Puck laughs. “That might be a smart attitude to take.”

 

At a quarter to five, Finn starts pacing and obsessively checking the clock again. Well, it’s not precisely pacing, more like aggressively wandering, but in the fourteen minutes it takes for the guys to start arriving, it gets fucking annoying to watch.

The doorbell finally rings, and since Finn’s further from the door, Puck leaps up to answer it, happy for the distraction. “Hey, Mike, Sam.”

“Hey, dude.”

“Hanging out?”

“Yeah, we _were_ playing Call of Duty until Finn started his elephant impression.”

“Dude, I did my elephant impression at Starbucks,” Finn says, shaking his head. “That was hours ago. And anyway, it went with the story.”

“Every time I come to this house, something happens and I find myself thinking ‘I really don’t want to know,’” Mike muses.

“Hey, imagine how I feel,” Finn answers. “I have to live here all the time. I know all kinds of stuff.”

“Anything good?” Sam asks, laughing. “I’m sure my girl would reward me for good stories.”

“I think Kurt and me have a silent agreement to never, ever, _ever_ talk about the pink bag Burt got for my mom,” Finn says, with a shudder. “Mercedes probably doesn’t want to know about that, either.”

“Mercedes probably _already_ knows about it,” Puck points out. “ _All_ of the girls probably do.”

“Maybe they don’t know it was for my mom. Though, I mean, I guess they’d know Kurt’s not buying it for _himself_. Maybe they think he has a penpal?”

Puck tries really hard not to laugh, because he can’t imagine Kurt doing anything other than shrieking at the list and sharing his discomfort. “Maybe you boys will get lucky; maybe he used the opportunity to drag your girls in there, too.”

“Yeah?” Mike asks, suddenly more interested. “You think so?”

“I doubt it,” Finn says, glumly.

“Have some faith!” Sam says enthusiastically. “Maybe we’ll all have a merry Christmas.”

“So, you’d take Stevie’s girlfriend shopping for something for her?” Finn asks. “When Stevie’s old, I mean? Come on, I’m pretty sure Kurt does _not_ wanna think about me and Rachel and anything that comes in a pink bag.”

“Shut up,” Puck and Sam chorus together, glaring at Finn.

“I’m just saying that brothers don’t take their brothers’ girlfriends out shopping for that kind of stuff.”

“We don’t talk about Stevie. Or Hannah,” Puck grinds out.

“What? Why no-- _oh_. Yeah, cause of what we talked about that time, right?” Finn looks sheepish.

Sam and Puck exchange glances and nod, silently agreeing not to mention that there’s plenty more where the first story came from. “Yeah. That.” Puck shakes his head a little and slumps back onto the couch.

“Ok, well, moving right along, then,” Finn says, rolling his eyes. “How do we kill an hour?”

“Rock Band?” Mike asks, hopefully.

“Sure, but somebody else has to play drums this time,” Finn complains. “I know how to play real drums, so it’s not exactly challenging. I call bass.”

“Let’s make Artie play drums when he gets here,” Puck suggests, rubbing his hands together. “Sam, you want keyboard?”

“Hell, yeah. Mike on guitar,” Sam adds with a grin.

“Guess that leaves me on vocals,” Puck agrees, then heads towards the door when they see Artie arrive.

“So the girls and Kurt are going to take another hour?” he hears Mike ask Finn as he helps Artie in.

“Yeah, they’ll be here around six or so. Hopefully closer to six.”

“Sup?” Artie asks as he rolls in. “Ooh, Rock Band.”

“You’re on drums,” Sam says with a nod.

“Uh, guys, that’d be awesome if I could control the foot pedal with my mind,” Artie points out.

“Duh,” Mike shakes his head. “You and Sam swap.”

“I sometimes forget your wheels don’t count as feet, dude,” Finn apologizes. “I mean, you’re a better dancer than I am.”

“That’s just ‘cause I’m dope,” Artie nods. “What’s up first?”

“How about ‘Little Sister’?” Sam suggests.

“Sounds good to me, but you think you can keep up with that drum?” Finn jokes.

“Bring it,” Sam grins.

They start the song, but Sam fails out the first time within thirty seconds, then again shortly after Puck saves him. Sam fails out a final time before they’re two thirds of the way through the song.

“Yeah, maybe you should pick something with an easier drumline,” Puck snorts after the song ends. “Maybe we should go old school. Ramones?”

“I Wanna Be Sedated,” Artie calls.

“Cool,” Finn says. “Let’s _rock_!”

They play Rock Band for most of the rest of the hour, pausing occasionally for pop or to speculate on the whereabouts of the rest of them. They’re just finishing up a rousing rendition of ‘Master Explorer’ when Sam drops the drumsticks and grins. “They’re here.”

Finn hops up quickly and runs to the door, doing a dramatic flying leap over the foyer rug. Puck stifles a laugh as he sets down the microphone, watching Sam and Mike trot after him like eager puppies. He exchanges a glance with Artie. “Guess I’m not the only one led around by his dick anymore,” he snorts, and Artie laughs.

“Yeah, I guess not.”

“I’m going to actually go be a gentleman,” Puck mock-bows, “and help them carry stuff in.” With a nod, he follows the other three outside. Kurt’s still sitting inside the Nav as the girls slowly climb out, and Puck walks over to the door. “Need any help carrying?”

Kurt grins. “Oh, god, yes. Just keep your eyes out of the bags.”

“Yes, sir,” Puck matches his grin and walks with Kurt to the back of the Nav, absently watching the rest of them.

Tina’s plastered against Mike, and good for them; Sam and Mercedes, for their part, are gripping each other’s hand tightly, exchanging coy smiles. Finn is practically draped across Rachel’s shoulder like the world’s largest Finn coat. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany are merely unloading themselves, Santana rolling her eyes at the three couples.

“Oh. You bought out Cincinnati?” Puck asks, when Kurt opens the back.

“Just the northern suburbs,” Kurt replies, then moves a few things around before pulling out a bag filled with...

“Cinnamon buns?”

“One pan’s yours, by the way. Two are for right now, though.”

“Someone said cinnamon buns?” Finn’s eyes are filled with childlike glee. “My _favorite_ cinnamon buns?”

Puck tightens his hold on the bag. “He said one each, Herman.”

Finn makes a pouty face that is only partly put-on. “But I _love_ cinnamon buns.”

“I bought you meatballs, Finn,” Kurt says patiently. “And one of those pans is staying here, just for our family. But _right now_ , everyone gets one bun. As soon as we get all of this inside, that is.”

“Is _all_ of this yours?” Finn asks, gaping at the stacks of bags in the back of the Nav.

“Well. Some of it goes home with Puck.” Kurt shrugs. Puck started to pick up a bag and Kurt slaps his hand lightly. “No, you can’t carry that one. Take the one next to it.”

“Ouch,” Puck mock-complains. “I’m dying.”

“Baby,” Kurt says, lips curved in a smile, and Puck grins, picking up the indicated bag and carrying it in, along with the cinnamon buns.

He can hear Finn grumbling about why can’t _he_ be the one to carry the cinnamon buns, and why does he have to be stuck with shoes and stuff that smells like a hooker sitting in a cherry tree.

Puck shakes his head and takes the bag up to Kurt’s room, leaving the extra cinnamon buns in there, too, just in case Finn decides to go after them, and carries the two pans back down to the kitchen. He slides one out and hands it to Artie on his way back out the door. “Dessert before dinner.”

“Nice,” Artie nods appreciatively. “We should send Kurt to Ikea more often.”

Puck chuckles and heads back out the door, nearly bumping into the three Cheerios as they come up the porch stairs. Sam’s nearly disappeared beneath a stack of boxes and bags, and Mike is similarly adorned. “Nice look, guys.”

“Ha ha,” Mike says from behind the bags.

“I feel like a pack mule,” Finn calls from the other side. “Hee haw!”

“We found out the real reason Puckerman’s not got a girl,” Sam’s voice calls out. “He didn’t want to carry her shopping.”

“Riight,” Puck quirks an eyebrow, that Sam probably can’t see anywhere, and takes more bags from Kurt, who shuts the back after taking the last boxes and bags in his own arms.

“Real men carry most of their own shopping bags,” Kurt asserts, dropping his voice dramatically.

“Then next time I have to shop, I’ll bring you with me,” Finn says. “You can ‘real man’ all my bags for me. You’re such an awesome big brother!”

“Key words were _their own_ , little brother.”

It takes another twenty minutes to get everything inside and sort of sorted, followed by arguing over where to order pizza. By the time the order’s placed, the delivery time is over an hour, and everyone devours their cinnamon bun before piling into the living room and staring expectantly at Finn.

“Ok, so, for starters I just need to say,” Finn takes a deep breath. “Let’s not let Mr. Schue’s practices mess us up. Whatever weird suggestions he comes up with, we have to find a way to change his mind or work around them. Or, if it comes to it, just ignore them once we get to Sectionals. He can be pissed later.”

“Yeah, we’ve spent too much time on our arrangements and our choreography. This is our club,” Tina concludes, nodding firmly.

Finn nods. “Good. Ok. Also, warming up. That’s not something we’ve been doing before performances in the past, but we need to start doing it. Did the rest of you know that Rachel and Kurt warm up before every performance?”

Puck watches Kurt roll his eyes a little, and Rachel looks at Finn, seemingly surprised that he knew that. “I did,” Mike volunteers, “but I just figured no amount of warming up would help my voice.” He grins. “We should really warm up for the dancing, too, now that you mention it. It’s just the same as any dance class.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure any amount of warming up will help my dancing,” Finn agrees, “but you’re right. Can you develop a warm up for us? Something that loosens up the right stuff but won’t give away any of our choreography if a competing team saw us.”

“Yeah, most warmups are going to be pretty standard, regardless of choreography,” Mike agrees with a nod.

“So are we actually going to all of Schue’s rehearsals?” Santana asks.

“We probably have to,” Finn sighs. “Though, if a few of you have to skip one, that’s fine. Just make sure you make it to the _real_ rehearsals...and try not to all skip Schue’s at once, ok?”

“I’m bringing the costumes tomorrow to Rachel’s,” Kurt speaks up. “We should have at least two dress rehearsals.”

Finn nods. “And I know you guys are probably tired of hearing this, but I think we need to add one more rehearsal, to cancel out the fake rehearsals. Would everybody be willing to show up early on Friday morning? We can get in forty-five minutes or so of practice, really get this thing nailed and keep it fresh in our minds going into the weekend.”

“No coffee?” Kurt whimpers.

“Everybody put some cash into an envelope or something and I’ll pick it up on the way,” Finn offers. “Oh, and put your order in there, ‘cause I have no freaking clue what you guys drink. It’s all fancy Italian.”

“I can write that out,” Puck says. “Don’t worry about it, unless you’ve changed your drink order to gingerbread or peppermint.”

“Super Barista to the rescue,” Santana snorts.

“That’s Badass Barista,” Puck fires back.

“Oh, Finn, don’t forget to tell them about Friday night,” Kurt speaks up.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks, Kurt!” Finn grins. “You guys are all sleeping over on Friday night, since we’ve got the game and then have to turn around and get up early for Sectionals, so bring your nice jammies and your toothbrushes.”

“Hey, is this where that pink bag comes in again?” Puck calls out, smirking at Finn.

“Oh _god_ ,” Finn groans, picking up a throw pillow and chucking it at Puck. “That is _so_ uncool.”

“What pink bag?” Puck can hear Mercedes asking, and he grabs the thrown pillow and buries his face in it to keep from laughing out loud at Sam’s stuttered attempt to redirect Mercedes’ attention.

“Oh, _Finn_ ,” Kurt says, exasperated. “You told them about my unfortunate foray?”

“Puck did it,” Finn insists. “It was Puck.”

“How did Puck know?” Tina asks.

“Maybe Kurt had to share the pain with someone else after I died of horror?” Finn suggests. “Anyway, it was _definitely_ Puck.”

“I think I’m being framed. You’re the one that said you and Kurt had an agreement not to speak about it... right before you went and talked about it,” Puck points out, shaking his head.

“I saw a documentary about someone who was framed,” Brittany says, sadly. “It was awful. That poor bunny.”

“Ok, so maybe I _mentioned_ that there _was_ a pink bag,” Finn says, after pausing for a long moment to stare at Britt. “But Puck was involved somehow, I’m sure.”

“I was in the room,” Puck deadpans.

“See?” Finn says, pointing at Puck. “He was in the _room_!”

“At least he wasn’t forced to buy undergarments in a store I could have happily died without setting foot in,” Kurt sniffs. He narrows his eyes at Finn a little.

“Dude, don’t blame me. _Your_ dad. _Your_ shopping trip!”

“ _Your_ mother,” Kurt says, shuddering a little. He turns his gaze to Rachel for a moment and shakes his head. “Let’s change the subject. Please.”

“Agreed!” Finn gasps. “Everybody on board for Friday? Morning _and_ night stuff?”

“Absolutely!” Rachel pipes up at last. “And I’m sure Kurt and I would be honored to lead us all in some vocal warm-ups!”

“None of that meowing stuff, though,” Finn insists, in his most commanding Leadership Qualities voice.

“Right, of course,” Rachel nods. “No meowing.”

“What if Lord Tubbington comes to rehearsal? Can he meow?”

“No,” Finn answers, firmly.

Brittany sighs. “All right. If I bring him, I’ll bring plenty of that string cheese so he won’t meow.”


End file.
